Forever Alive
by Mordred
Summary: Before the boy who lived, there was another story. One of a monster inside of a man. One of a hero inside of a child. One of a traitor inside of a friend. And one of an angel inside of a demon. COMPLETED.
1. Author's Introduction and Prologue

**FOREVER ALIVE**

**The Complete Account of the Lives and Deaths of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs**

By Mordred

Edited by Miranda Collier

"_**Je Ne Mourrai Pas"**_

**Disclaimer: **This entire story is comprised of a world that does not belong to me. Everything you recognize, from the characters to situations to dialogue, is under the copyright of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No profit is being made from this story.

**Summary: **Before the boy who lived, there was another story. One of a monster inside of a man. One of a traitor inside of a friend. One of a hero inside of a boy. And one of an angel inside of a demon.

**AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION**

**The Beginning of a Story**

For years I have been fascinated not with the Harry Potter story, but with the story before it. Some ten good years before little Harry was born, his father went to Hogwarts, made friends closer than Ron or Hermione, and did pranks to show even Fred and George up. Sirius Black and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Remus Lupin joined him on a seven-year rampage of escapades, explorations, and just all around marauding. And bringing up the rear was Peter Pettigrew, now known as Wormtail. Even after Hogwarts, they stayed together. It's this story of friendship, courage, and the occasional laugh that always intrigues me more than the canon's main plot.

It also intrigued my younger brothers, to whom I was reading all five books to at night. When the fifth book, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_, hit bookstores, I took them up to their room at night, sat on the top bunk with a cup of ice water and a fan, and started reading in my dramatic voices. It took us about a week to finish the 800-page book, and we were left with no reading material. So I went searching on the net for fanfiction that was semi decent for little boys to hear. I found a few, but my oldest brother suggested that night that I should write my own fanfic that we could read at night until school started up again. I agreed, and sat down to write out the part of the series that would never be written by J.K. Rowling, but has been written over and over again by us fans. But it was my turn to try my hand at the Marauder years.

By doing this, I (as well as my brothers) could witness the transformations of Remus, the loathing that Snape had for James, how Sirius and James had met, how they had become Animagi, how they had written the Marauder's Map, etc. It turned out to be a challenge. I didn't want this book to be off canon, so I went combing through all of the books for clues on what had happened. I didn't want my story to become one of these off-the- wall and warped views of what happened. I didn't want any adventures that weren't written or mentioned in the series, and I didn't want to warp the characters to be my own.

_Forever Alive_ is in its fourth year of existence. What a wonderful and awe-inspiring idea that this fanfiction grew to be what it is today. As a joke, my college friends and I googled "Forever Alive by Mordred" into the server and actually was faced with the reality that this story has not only touched the minds and hearts of those nearest to it, but thousands of strangers from every continent excluding Antarctica. It has been translated into three languages (Spanish, French, and German), and has many fans spilling into the message boards of some of the most well known fansites out there to date. In an interview for my college, my now-advisor asked me for a small fun fact about myself, and I said with a completely straight face, "I wrote a 1400 page Harry Potter fanfiction that now has a kult following." We both laughed for a bit, and then I said, "No. Seriously."

It took a year to finish this story. The entirety of the sophomore year of high school was spent between homework, my original works, and _Forever Alive_. I finished it in July of 2004, and that was the end of that.

Fortunately, that was not the end of it. To this day, I still get at least three reviews a day and even more on the French translation. However, a lot of these reviews were always complaining about the same things. My French was terrible, my grammar was horrendous, and it contradicted _Half-Blood Prince _and _Deathly Hallows_, both of which obviously were published after I had concluded my story. With these requests to please follow up on an edit, I decided to do just that.

What you see before you today is the re-edited version of _Forever Alive_. My BETA reader, Miranda C, approached me and offered her help in this process. Without her, none of this would have gotten done and I would still be pestered by my terrible fifteen-year-old French skills and sentence structure. This version is up-to-date, including some of the information we learn about in the two later books, staying to the idea although for the sake of the original plot lines, certain creative differences have taken place. While I wanted this to be as close to canon as possible, I must disappoint you in saying that there is at least two major issues with doing so. One: this book and the character arcs were created before Rowling announced how James and Lily's parents died. For the sake of the book, I cannot say how they die in this story, but I will tell you that it is very different from what Rowling imagined it to be. Also, Bellatrix Lestrange and her sisters are in a different order of birth, as is Lucius Malfoy. Lucius is seen as three years younger than he actually is, putting him in the same year as Sirius and James. Please take these things with a grain of salt, because the rest of the book lines up perfectly to the canon.

So I welcome you into the world of Harry Potter again, through new eyes, and through a new story. These characters do not die with the final book, nor will they ever. They are Forever Alive, and they are forever in our hearts.

Welcome to the Marauder years.

**PROLOGUE**

**The Last Marauder**

It was over. The battle was over. The heroes of the night were forgotten, and the world had turned peaceful again. The steadfast Aurors of the Order had disappeared into the shadows of the past without a word of gratitude from anyone. They had gone to save just another handful of lives and had returned one man short. This man would never be celebrated, nor remembered.

Molly, Arthur, and Remus found themselves in the hallway of the now ownerless house at Grimmauld Place. The only voice heard throughout the hallways was that of Kreacher's. Remus hated him at that moment.

The house-elf would soon be joining his mother on the wall.

Sirius was gone forever. Padfoot was lost to the world. Now only one true Marauder was left. Now only Remus Lupin remained.

He sat down, stiffly, in a chair in the common room, staring at the pictures on the wall. None showed Sirius's bright face. None was a reminder of his good friend. No one in the world had cared for the lost soldier. No one in the world would mourn for him.

"Are you feeling all right, Remus?" Molly asked, emerging from the kitchen. She hadn't been there. She hadn't seen the horrible sight that he had seen. Sirius's face --- his eyes --- falling through the veil --- She never did like Sirius. Actually, she had hated him.

It was in this moment of looking at her blushed, blustery face that Remus recalled the argument she and Sirius had bickered out only last summer, when Harry had arrived at Headquarters. Molly had looked into Sirius's face, looking for some sort of understanding from him.

"You have to understand, Sirius, he's my son's best friend."

"Well," Sirius had huffed, "He's my best friend's son."  
"Remus?" Molly now sounded, giving a worried look to him. He shook his head.

"I'm fine," Remus answered, and turned away from her. He couldn't face her now. He felt a mixture of fear and loneliness. These things he had no come across since he was but a child, but now it was so much harder to face the shadows. Sirius was dead. And he was alone.

"Now what's to become of Harry?" Arthur asked, sitting down at the table. He looked so tired, so worn out from the world. He hadn't been there, either. They were both free from the sight that kept flashing into Remus's head.

His eyes. Sirius's eyes. They had been alive when they were killed. The rest of his body had been motionless. But Sirius --- he had looked at Harry. Harry hadn't realized it. Harry had been in a state of shock. But ---

Sirius had looked at Harry.

A pain shot through Remus's heart. He knew that he would always feel terrible for the loss of his friend. But Harry would feel worse pain for the loss of his godfather. Poor Harry. He had been through so much.

He had been through too much.  
"Remus, dear, are you sure you don't need anything? A cup of tea? Butterbeer?"

"I'm fine, Molly, I'm fine," he said, jumping to attention, "I think you two should go up to the school and check on your son. He was very brave tonight."

"He was very stupid tonight," Arthur grunted, and stood up uneasily from his place at the table. "He could have gotten himself killed! He-"

"Stuck with his friends," Remus interrupted him, and smiled a sad smile. Molly and Arthur stared at him, not knowing exactly what to say. Remus didn't care. He needed to think. He needed to get away.

"Well," Molly coughed, and as she rubbed her hands on a dishtowel she added, "Yes…well…if you're here to…hold down the fort. It would be good to see Ron."

"I'll take care of everything," he assured her, and forced another more worn smile onto his worn face. Molly gave him one more discerning look, and then grabbed her cloak.

"Come on, Arthur," and Arthur followed his wife obediently into the fireplace and to Hogwarts.

Remus was alone.

The eyes had been so alive. They came back to him again. Had it only been two hours ago that he had sat here, playing wizard's chess with Sirius? Now he was alone.

He stood up on his shaky legs, and made for the bedroom. Up the rickety staircase, past Kreacher ("Filth! Dirty bloods! Half breed!"), and through the door frame covered in cobwebs. It had been Sirius's room. Everything was still in place, just as he had left it. The Muggle girl posters, the Gryffindor paraphernalia his friend had been so proud of --- everything was untouched by time, by people, by --- anything ---

Remus sighed, and sat down on the bed. It was still indented with its owner's body. It still smelled of Sirius. There were loose hairs on the pillow. Remus closed his eyes, and let out a shaky breath. He still couldn't believe it. Maybe, if he went to bed, and had a good night's rest, he would wake in the morning to find his old friend grumbling around the house as usual. Maybe if he just shut his eyes, and then opened them again, very slowly --- he would be alive ---

Maybe if he just kept them closed Sirius would come and speak to him. Maybe if he waited long enough ---

_"Remus, what are you doing?"_

He dared not open his eyes. The dream was too real. He wanted it to keep going. He wanted to hear that low, drawling voice again. He wanted Sirius to give him some sort of sign.

"I'm waiting for you," he replied to the thin air that surrounded him. He could feel his cheek against the pillowcase. He could hear Kreacher's cackling a floor below.

"_Why?_" the would-be ghost asked from the doorway. Yes, that is where he would have been standing; at the doorway, leaning up against it with his arms crossed and his hair in his eyes.

"You're coming back," Remus whispered.

"_Now, Moony_," Sirius laughed, shifting his weight onto his left foot, "_Why would you think up a stupid thing like that? We both know damn well I'm gone_."

"You can't be. You're alive. We need you, Sirius. Harry needs you ---The Order ---"

"_There are things worth fighting for, Remus_," he interrupted. His voice was closer. He had walked towards the bed. "_And the things you just named were a few of them_."

"Padfoot, I-"

"_Be strong_," he said. "_You're all Harry's got now. You're the last Marauder. You've got to keep going. You have to let go of me_."

"I can't! Without you or James, I'm nothing!"

"_That's a load of dung_," Sirius snorted. "_You and I both know you were the smartest. The wisest. That's why you're still alive. That's why you're in the Order, Remus_."

"I don't want to be alive."

Sirius laughed. Remus didn't know why. He didn't find anything funny about the current situation. He was talking to someone who was no longer alive, thus proving he was going mad. He was crying. He was alone in a haunted house with an idiot elf and a dead painting. And now he was the last Marauder.

"_Listen, Moony_," Sirius said, "_You saw the beginning of this Great War, and you're going see the end. Now get up out of my bed, wash your face, and get downstairs. Dumbledore's going to be here any minute. And look what you're doing to my pillow! It's drenched! Get off, get out of there! Stop moping around! Look at yourself! What would James say? Besides, someone's got to give Wormtail a good hard kick in the rear. He's deserved it, don't you think?_"

Lupin wiped his eyes, and opened them. He was alone again. Sirius was gone.

Kreacher walked back up the stairs in his slow shuffle, and passed the door muttering, "Mad dirty half breeds speaking to themselves! The filth Kreacher and his mistress must put up with!"

Lupin stood up, and crossed over to the desk where scrolls upon scrolls of parchment were set. He sat down and took a handful of them to read. He felt as if he was intruding, but Sirius was dead. What was he going to do? Haunt him?

Remus smiled to himself, dried his eyes again, and started to leaf through the papers.  
_January 15, 1995_

_Sirius,_

_Do not leave your house again. This is your last warning._

_Signed,_

_AD._

Dumbledore.

There was an unfinished letter to Harry. A threatening one to the Dursleys (Sirius had never sent it). A list of all the creatures lurking around in the kitchen and common room (written by Molly).

And then…all of a sudden…handwriting that Remus hadn't seen for years. Four handwritings. Together, all written in red ink. It had been done to resemble blood, since all of the boys were scared to prick themselves. It read:

_We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. On this fortnight of October 31st, 1975, the four Marauders agree to follow each other until death do us part. We also agree to always keep secret the Great Power that we possess. Oh, yes…and one more thing. To make Snivellus's life during and after Hogwarts a living hell._

Signed (in no significant order),

Padfoot  
Moony  
Prongs  
Wormtail

Remus smiled again, and the words of only a few minutes ago overtook his mind.

_He stuck with his friends. _


	2. Chapter 1: The Monster of King's Cross

**PART 1**

**THE SCHOOL YEARS**

**Chapter 1**

**The Monster of King's Cross**

**E**ach year, Earl Katzenbaum drove the large shiny red steam engine in and out of Platform 9 ¾. Each year, he saw the random students in their Muggle clothing enter through the magical barricade and clamber onto the cars with excitement. Each year, their hopeful parents saw them off, waving and smiling and blowing kisses and saying embarrassing things like "Now John Isaac Morris! If I hear that you haven't taken a shower for a week, I'll send the biggest Howler you've ever seen!" Each year, Katzenbaum saw the same scene with changing faces. He saw the first years grow to seventh years, and their brothers and sisters succeed them. So the hot September day of 1971 shouldn't have been any different.

Yet everyone was tedious on board the train. Earl wasn't the only one who had wanted to bar one of the compartments closed with steel and swallow the key. But alas, that stubborn old headmaster would not budge to his requests. Dumbledore had looked down his half-moon glasses at the train staff, and said in a very forceful voice, "Every student will be treated equally. No matter his misfortunes."

This hadn't gone over very well with the food cart lady, who knew very well that she would have to run into the monster at least once on the trip if she had any prayer of keeping her job. She had been found, tensely pacing back and forth, rubbing her arms as if a draft had blown into her room, muttering to herself about the atrocities of Dumbledore's desegregation endeavors.

"It's madness! I tell you, someone will be hurt! I can feel it. Something horrible's going to happen!"

So Earl, who had usually looked forward to the first day of school, was now dreading it. The nightmares came more often, and the weeks turned to days turned to hours and --- finally --- minutes.

Now the old engineer of the Hogwarts Express was forced to look out his window to the usual scene below. Students crowded around their parents, saying last goodbyes. He wondered if he could spot the little demon in the midst of them. Did he have hair growing out of his ears? Did he have whiskers? Come to think of it, Earl had never seen one of _them _before. Were they freakish, or did they look like everyone else?

He could imagine a twenty-foot creature making its way onto the train, snarling and clawing at everyone in sight. His luggage would be in his hand, with the Hogwarts robes worn tightly around his neck like a cloth chain.

He wouldn't be able to fit into the compartments.

"Now remember, our entire family has upheld our good name by landing in Slytherin. You remember that, boy."

Earl's glance shot towards a large pillar, where three figures were saying their good-byes. A placid looking woman with a pale face was turned toward a small boy with the blackest hair he had ever seen. The father, he guessed, was a man that looked as if he had been chiseled out of stone. He had his arms crossed and he looked down his pointed nose at the boy as if he were a roach.

"I know, Father, I know," the boy said quietly, shuffling his feet and casting his look to the ground. "I'll try, but I don't get to choose."

"If you show that old git of a hat your lineage, he's bound to put you where you belong," the woman piped in. Her voice was cracked and worn. She patted her son on the shoulder, and pushed him toward the train entrance. "We will write you, and expect you back home for Christmas. Your brother will be pleased to see you again. And your cousins will be visiting for the holidays."

"I can hardly wait," the boy grumbled, and he made his way slowly to the third car. He was a Black. Earl could tell from the dark eyes and pale complexion. _Another Slytherin for Hogwarts,_ he thought as he cast his gaze back at the crowd earnestly. He wanted to catch a glimpse of this beast that was due to arrive.

He saw a fat pudgy boy enter, holding his pet rat. He was followed by a skinny first year with thick glasses. Then a severe looking boy with a hooked, pointed nose, who was waiting patiently for a red haired girl, who was accompanied by her parents and what looked like her older sister. The sister had a look of pure disgust on her face, and the mother and father were dressed in genuine Muggle clothes.

Muggles, Earl thought to himself.

He darted his eyes back and forth throughout the crowd. No one seemed out of place. No one looked like a shaggy monster with fanged teeth. They were all children.

Hank made his way into the engine room, and knocked on the door. Earl looked at him, turning his stares away from the window. Hank grinned that stupid fat grin he always had, and said, "Well, sir, we'll be pullin' out in about five minutes."

"Erm, Hank," Earl stopped his co worker as he started to retreat. "Do you have that list handy? I'd like to take a peep at it."

"Er…sure, Earl," Hank said, taking out his clipboard and shuffling through the papers. "You checkin' on someone?"

"Some_thing_, actually," Early said bitterly, and grabbed the board from him, "You remember that name of the kid? You know --- the kid?"

"Oh, you mean the freaky one?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Can't really recall offhand --- well --- it started with an _L_, didn't it?"

"Was that the first name or last name?"

"Heck, I dunno, Earl. Either? Both? Who cares? We's got three minutes now 'till we ship out," Hank grabbed his clipboard back, and disappeared through the doorway.

Earl sighed, rubbed his neck, and went back to watching the scene outside.

And finally, he caught a glimpse of the monster.

It was a little boy, only about four feet in height. He hadn't hit puberty yet, Earl could tell. He was scrawny, and circles were under his eyes. He was already wearing his robes, which were hardly distinguishable because of the bad condition they were in. They were either hand-me-downs or compliments of the Second-Hand Store in Diagon Alley. His hands weren't visible from underneath the sleeves, and it draped over him like a nightgown. His father stood with him, proud all the same, beaming at the crimson red Hogwarts Express. The little boy with his gray-blond hair was shivering with nerves.

The man bent down to face his son, whispered something in his ear, and patted him on the back. The little boy smiled sadly, picked up his trunk (which was bigger than him), and headed off towards one of the entrances. The father wiped a tear from his eye, and waved at his departing son.

"All aboard!" Hank called from outside the door. "All accounted for, Earl. Go ahead."

Earl pulled the gears into place, and the Hogwarts Express gave a whistle. In a matter of seconds, the large train was pulling out of King's Cross and into the countryside.

And yet Earl didn't feel better.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Sirius blinked, and looked up, his eyes peering over the Daily Prophet. There was a boy with mussed hair standing in the entrance, his thick black glasses dominating his face. He was grinning at him. Grinning. What a loser.

"Sure. It isn't my train."

The four-eyed boy's grin got wider, and he plopped down in the seat across from him. Sirius sighed, and went on reading the paper.

Nothing interesting had been happening in the wizarding world lately. Some man named Crouch had become a member of the Wizengamot. A girl called Dorcas Meadowes had been inducted into one of the millions of Ministry cabinets. Jeremiah Sweeny had opened a new shop in Hogsmeade. Nothing important. Nothing interesting. The best headline there was one that read "GRINGOTTS INDUCTS NEW TROLL INSURANCE." Whatever that meant.

"My name's James."

Sirius blinked again. Was the weirdo actually trying to talk to him? Make conversation? He raised his eyebrow, but the grin on the boy's face just got bigger.

"I'm Sirius."

The conversation was over. He went back to the paper.

"Sirius, eh? Don't hear that name every day, do you?"

Sirius bit his lip, and his eyes narrowed. "No, you don't," he replied, not taking his eyes off the paper, "It's a family name."

"Is that like…the star or something? You know, that Dog Star?"  
"I really don't know."

"Oh, all right. I see," James cleared his throat and went to looking out the window. Good. The git had shut his mouth. Now Sirius could be miserable in peace.

He didn't want to go to Hogwarts. He had been looking into Durmstrang. Well, his father had been looking into Durmstrang. His mother, however, had insisted that he uphold the family name by going to Hogwarts. By getting into Slytherin. By making many Slytherin friends and meeting a nice Slytherin girl. Together they would make beautiful pure blood Slytherin children. Yes, his life was planned out for him. And his life started today with the Sorting Ceremony.

"So…you're not a big talker, are you?"

"Mmm," Sirius mumbled, and he pretended to be drawn into an article. It was about the Muggle soap bars and their atrocities.

James's grin faded, and he shifted nervously in his chair. "Yeah, all right. I can take a hint. You find the paper more interesting than me. Okay."

"Mmm," Sirius said offhandedly.  
"Excuse me, sirs."

The two boys looked up at a very pretty lady with a cart filled with food. Her hair was out of place, and she looked extremely frazzled for some reason. Her eyes were glazed over, and her hands shook with fright. She tried to keep her voice steady as she offered them some treats off of the cart.

"There's a new card in the Chocolate Frogs," she said. "It's of Mirva the Magnificent."

"Really?" James said, seemingly interested. He stood up with difficulty and walked to the cart. He picked up a few Frogs, examined them, and then shook his head. "Nah. I'm not really hungry. I don't really like Mirva all that well."

The lady seemed to not even hear him. Sirius heard the cart being pushed away down the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the thick glasses sit down again across from him, and remove something from his sleeve. Sirius dropped the paper in his lap, and saw a handful of Chocolate Frogs in his acquaintance's arms. He felt his jaw fall to the ground.

James's grin was exposed again, and he shoved one into Sirius's lap, "Here, have one. And enjoy it. They cost me a fortune."

And for the first time, Sirius felt himself grin as widely as his new friend.

However, this small victory was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of another. A little red haired girl, her eyes tear-strained and puffy, forced the compartment door open and then slammed it shut behind her. Not saying a word to the two boys, she tried to cover her wet face with a sleeve of her new robes as she slid into a seat near the window and pressed her blushed cheek up against the glass. James and Sirius said nothing in return, except for a small hoot on Sirius's part, and the two boys went back to eating their sweets. It wasn't this girl who began the incident. No, it was her friend who arrived only a few minutes later.

A long nosed boy with greasy black hair and wide eyes slid the door open, and stepped over James, who was presently threatening to rip Godfrey the Great's Chocolate Frog Card in half. With eyes only for the little girl, the boy took a seat opposite her. The girl's eyes flared, and her left eye twitched in a way that made everyone in the compartment mute.

"I don't want to talk to you," she spit at the boy, and the boy looked a bit hurt by this.

"Why not?"

"'Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?"

The girl threw her friend a look of deep dislike.

"So she's my sister!"

"She's only a ---" the boy caught himself quickly. The girl, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, did not hear him. So he started again, "But we're going!" he said with as much exhilaration possible, "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

She nodded, mopping her eyes, but in spite of herself, she half smiled.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," the boy said, and Sirius tensed uneasily. James spit out the head of Godfrey the Great and sat in complete awe of this new statement. Sirius, tersely looking to his new friend, slowly slumped in his seat as he saw the reaction the word "Slytherin" had caused. The girl, unaware of the boys' change, smiled a bit and nodded. This drove James to speak.

"Slytherin?!"

The boy with the hooked nose and the girl jumped a bit, as if realizing there were others in the compartment for the first time. James gave a bit of an uneasy laugh and said, "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Sirius, realizing this question was thrown at him, knew he was about to confess.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said quietly.

"Blimey!" James sort of recoiled, "And I thought you seemed all right!"

These words stung Sirius, made him uncomfortable --- this was his first new friend --- and he had just lost him. That uncanny grin that always seemed to find its way to his face whenever he became nervous slowly climbed onto his lips, and he shoved himself out of his slump, swearing he would not let on that James had hurt him.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition," and then with a bit of quick thinking, he added, "Where are you heading, if you got the choice?"

"Gryffindor!" James said, throwing a long invisible sword into the air, "Where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad!"

The boy with the hooked nose gave James a terrifying look and a little snort. James, obviously not used to this sort of break in ranks, turned on him.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No," said the boy defiantly, "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy ---"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither!" Sirius said, stiffening once again. If there was to be a fight, he was ready. Half of the kids on his street was afraid of him; this little slimeball would be nothing compared to big Bernie McHiggins of Number 13 ---

But James, instead of stiffening, only could laugh a bit, and he slapped Sirius on the back with approval. Sirius felt himself warm up inside a bit as he saw the hooked nose boy glower at him. The girl grabbed her friend's hand and stood, facing the two boys.

"Come on, Severus," the girl said, "Let's find another compartment."

"Oooo!" James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice, and James playfully put out his foot to trip "Severus" as he walked by.

"See ya, Snivellus!" he sounded once more as the two disappeared into the corridor with a slam from the compartment door.

"I know his kind," James said, taking a seat and continuing his search for Mirva, "They come from old families that believe in all this old bullcock about purity and the dark arts. Mark me, Sirius, he'll have his long, slimy nose into all sorts of dark books once we get there."

Sirius, knowing quite well he himself was not at all much different from Snivellus and at the same time denying this fact to even himself, went back to the paper. It was a few moments before James said very quietly, almost in a whisper:

"But the girl --- she was beautiful."

"There's a new card in the Chocolate Frogs," the lady explained to the lone passenger of compartment number sixteen. "It's of Mirva the Magnificent."

The little boy wrung his hands together. Oh, how he wanted to buy the whole cart! He had never tried a Chocolate Frog before. He had heard about them --- about how warm and sweet they were! And he had skipped breakfast out of nerves. Oh, if only he had thought of asking his father for money.

"No, that's all right," he said. "I'm not very hungry."

The lady looked shaken, as if she was looking at a ghost. She knew. He knew she knew. They all knew. That engineer had looked at him so strangely when he had boarded the Hogwarts Express. Every time someone asked him his name, they would get this shocked look on their face.

The lady looked down at his hand. His sleeve had been pulled away for just a second, and a large cut had been revealed that extended the length of the back of his hand. He quickly shielded it from sight, and tried to look away from the horror written on the lady's face.

"How did you do that, dear?" she asked, her voice no longer trying to hide the quivering fear.

The little boy gazed down at the carpeted floor, and said very quietly, "I have a cat."

The lady nodded, in a daze, and left for compartment number seventeen.

It was a mistake. He had known that from the beginning. To even attempt to fit in with the normal wizarding society was a useless fight. He would always be an outcast. No matter what he did, no matter how good his grades were or how happy he would become, he would always be --- different.

Nothing would ever change that.

_He_ was already knawing away at his insides. It had only been last Friday that it had happened. The end of the month. The demon had come. Had taken over his body and had made it _his_ own. _He_ always lived inside the boy, waiting for _his_ night to release _himself_ and show the world the true evil that lurked in _his_ heart. _He_ always enjoyed hearing the horrific screams and pleas from the little boy.

_He_ liked it.

The little boy was terrified of _him_.

It was him that that lady should fear. But she feared both of them. Yes, she feared the monster and the man. Even if the monster was at bay.

_Twenty-eight more days, Remus,_ the little boy told himself, and he wrung his hands together faster. _Twenty-eight more days until he returns._


	3. Chapter 2: Slytherin's Legacy

**CHAPTER 2**

**Slytherin's Legacy**

It was later that night that the first years were ushered over to a large figure standing on the platform of Hogsmeade. It was a giant of a man, holding a florescent pink umbrella and untangling his enormous beard with his free hand. He stood at least twelve feet tall, and wore a brown trench coat big enough to wrap four men in. All of the first years stared at him with awe, their necks craning to see the top of the giant.

"Now, firs' years! Follow me, please!" he bellowed over the high winds and rain that were beginning to take form. James and Sirius were still eating the last of the Chocolate Frogs, and now were trying to find a Mirva card in the pile that they had required. So far, they had come across five Dumbledores, three Merlins, seventeen Godric Gryffindors, one Helga Hufflepuff, two Frank Longbottoms, and no Mirvas.

"That old broad was lying to us," Sirius snarled, as he shuffled through his pile again, "There aren't any Mirvas anywhere in here! And you swiped about half of her stock!"

"She didn't notice," James laughed. "Did you see her? She looked like she'd just seen a basilisk in her mirror." He grew stiff, and mocked the expression that the lady with the cart had been wearing. Sirius guffawed, and they drew nearer to the giant.

"Ah, 'ello you two. Yeah, come closer. Jus' a minute, I'll open up me umbrella. Jus' waitin' on a few stragglers. Come on, now! We haven' got all day!"

Soon, all of the students were crowded under the very large and very pink umbrella, shivering in the cold. The giant peered down at them from the shadows, through his brown shaggy beard.

"This all of yeh? Good. All righ'," he said, clearing his throat, "A few things before we star' in on this journey. Me name's Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the gamekeeper here at Hogwarts. Yeh can call me Hagrid. Now, we're gonna be goin' over the lake in a few, and I've got to remind yeh all…'specially in this weather…don' rock the boats. Four to a boat. Keep yer lanterns on at all times. No splashin'. No divin'. No enchantin' the boat. No nothin'. Jus' sit an' enjoy the view. Understan', everyone?"

They all nodded obediently.

"All righ', then. Follow me," he turned, his elbow almost taking out five giggly girls, and headed towards the docks.

James and Sirius stood by each other, still trying to make out the faces of the cards in the pelting rain. The wizards inside the elaborate frames were screaming for shelter and complaining about how they were becoming quite drenched.

"Take mercy!" screamed a Merlin in James's hand.

"Oh, geroff," James hissed at it, and stuffed his cards into his robe's pocket.

The docks weren't that far off, and as they approached, they were told to form groups of four. Sirius and James stood close together, and scanned the pitiful crowd of first years.

"Hey, you!" Sirius shouted out at a pudgy boy. "Need a seat?"

The boy looked around, and then stared back at Sirius, "Are --- are you talking to me?"

"No, we're talking to the tree behind you," James snorted. "Of course we're talking to you!"

The boy's face became bright, and he waddled over to the duo, his eyes beaming.

"Wow, thanks," he said, and found his way onto the back seat of the boat.  
James rolled his eyes, and stepped in behind him.

"Excuse me, is this boat full?"

Sirius turned around to come face to face with a streak of red. That red haired girl with green eyes stood, looking hopefully at the empty seat next to James. James and the boy with the rat turned towards her as well, and James's eyes grew big.

"Uh --- well --- uh ---" he stammered.

"Where's your greasy friend?" Sirius hissed at her, and the girl said nothing. But James could see the answer right over Sirius's shoulder. Snivellus the Slytherin had accidentally found his way into a boat with a white-haired boy and two gnarly looking girls. There was no room for his red haired friend, and he looked just as abashed as she did. Good, James thought. This girl needs better boys to hang around than stupid gits like him.

"We've got one more seat," the pudgy boy offered, and ushered her into the boat. She forced a smile, and taking the boy's hand, made her way off of the dock.

Halfway through the lake, James yawned and leaned back in his boat. Hagrid was in front of them, accompanying a boy with silvery blond hair. The boy looked like a mouse next to the giant, and he kept wringing his hands together, nervously looking at the waters below.

"So, yer Remus, eh?" Hagrid asked the little boy.

"Yes," said Remus, still not looking at the gamekeeper.

"Yeh got the jitters abou' school, have yeh?"

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, and his hands fidgeted faster.

"Well, the Headmaster wanted me ter welcome yeh to Hogwarts. He wants teh speak with yeh as soon as yer sorted. Abou' the end o' the month?"

"Yes, sir," Remus gulped.

The boat gave a lurch. James gripped the sides of the boat, and gasped. The green-eyed girl was also taken by surprise, and they both stared at Sirius, who had an evil glint in his eye.

"I heard there was a giant squid in this lake," he said, his lip curling into a smile. "I wonder if he's awake."

"Stop it," the girl said, taking hold of Sirius's hand. "Stop it. You're going to get us into trouble."

This just made Sirius smile even more, and he gave the boat another lurch. The boy with the rat turned a pale green.

"Oh, oh, oh," he murmured to himself.

"Come on, James," he laughed, and rocked it again. James returned the laugh, and for some reason, joined in the fun.

The waves hit the other children's boats, and they looked over to the four, two who were laughing and two who looked sick.

"Hey! Watch it!" the white-haired boy hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sirius said, and lurched the boat harder. The red haired, green-eyed girl screamed, and Snivellus nearly stood in his seat.

"Oi! Stop rocking it! Don't you see you're scaring her!"

"Oi! Shut up!" James snarled.

"Sev, stay out of this ---"

"I'll jump over there and ---"

"Sev! Stop!"

Remus, the little boy in Hagrid's boat, turned around to look at them, and he stared wide-eyed. He could see what was coming. The pudgy boy was leaning over the side, trying to hurl, when Sirius gave the boat an extra- hard jolt.

"Aaah!" The boy fell face first into the murky waters, and disappeared with a splash. Hagrid swiveled around on his seat, and his eyes grew large and his cheeks red.

"Didn' I tell yeh not to mess aroun'?" he reprimanded the entire boat. All of the first years were screaming, scanning the surface for any sign of the boy. Soon a gasp was heard, and a face and a hand withdrew from the water. Remus was the first to see him, and grabbed hold of the hand before it could disappear again.

"Hang on!" he said as he pulled the boy into Hagrid's boat.

"Oh please! Oh help!" the boy screamed and shivered as Remus struggled to keep him afloat.

"Give 'im here," Hagrid said, and pulled the boy straight out of the waters, and with a loud plunk, sat him right back in his seat. He then turned on his companions and added, "Now, if I see anymore funny business from the three o' yeh, yeh'll be takin' the next train home. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the girl said, trying to fight back tears. But Sirius and James used all of their energy to hold back laughs.

The Great Hall was amazing. It was just as Remus had pictured it. It was large with paned windows, and five long tables set perfectly on the stone floor. The ceiling was painted with the night, and candles hung from mid air. It was magic. It was home.

The other students were already set at the tables. The teachers were already in place. A tall, bearded man with half moon glasses sat in front of the crest of Hogwarts, which included the lion, the raven, the snake, and the badger. A strict looking woman in all green stood behind a stool where an old worn hat sat, waiting to be tried on. A long scroll of parchment lay in her hands, and she waited for the first years to come to the front of the Hall.

When they were all situated, the hat burst at the seams, and seemed to come to life before their eyes. Sirius stood in utter amazement, and the hat turned in his direction as if he could see him, and then he turned to James. Somehow it knew the trouble they had caused outside. Was it already judging them? Did it already know where he was going to spend the rest of his life?

Slytherin, no doubt. And the little lake escapade hadn't helped his case.

Then the hat opened its largest seam (which was apparently its mouth), and began to sing.

_Oh, I may not be the greatest hat  
To sit upon your head._

_No, I'm not a pretty color,_

_Crimson, pink, or red.  
_

_But I am the smartest hat you'll wear_

_As long as you may live,_

_For I will sort you to your house_

_And futures I will give.  
_

_Long ago when I was born_

_Magic was placed in me._

_Godric Gryffindor and Slytherin_

_Were someday to be  
_

_The greatest of enemies, _

_And yes, for many years,_

_All they did was shout and squall_

_About things a wizard fears.  
_

_Who was to be chosen_

_After all of them were dead?_

_This is where my part came in,_

_And they put brains inside my head.  
_

_So sit and I shall tell you_

_What your future may hold._

_Are you sly like good ol' Slytherin,_

_Or Gryffindor of bold?  
_

_Are you smart like charming Ravenclaw,_

_Or skilled like Hufflepuff?_

_Sit upon this stool,_

_And I'll see interesting stuff.  
_

_I will sort it out_

_And tell you where you ought to go,_

_So take your chance,_

_And I shall tell you what you need to know._

The hat then smiled and gave a bow to the cheering audience of the Halls. The sharp old lady then took out her scroll, and cleared her throat.

"First years, I shall call you by alphabetical order. When your name is called, please seat yourself on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat carefully on your head. After your House is announced, you may take a seat at your given table. First…Arslen, Hannah."

A sharp looking girl of eleven was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Sirius found himself pacing. Black. _B_. Why couldn't his name be Zanders?

"Anderson, Gregory."

Oh, please not Slytherin. Please not Slytherin.

"Black, Sirius."

He felt his legs walk to the stool, and his buttocks touch the warm seat. He couldn't open his eyes as the hat was placed on his head. He was too nervous. He couldn't think properly.

_Ah, another Black. Yes, I've been waiting for you. Hmm, yes . Your family does have a knack for landing in Slytherin, no doubt. And what's this about Chocolate Frogs? A boat? Oh, Mr. Black. You're a troublemaker._

_I can't go into Slytherin,_ thought Sirius. _I'll go with Hufflepuff, even, just not Slytherin._

_Not Slytherin? Why? You have a darker side that pines for the house of the snake. It would make you strong. Your parents would be proud._

Sirius felt his heart sink. His parents would be proud. That's the last thing he wanted. His entire life he had been trying to make his parents ashamed of him.

_Ah, I see. A rebel I have on my hands here, eh? Yes, I have been waiting for you. Quite indeed. Well, I guess I only have one choice._

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius's heart flew back up into his chest, and he felt his entire body beaming. He was in Gryffindor. Not Slytherin. Not Hufflepuff. Gryffindor. Oh, how his father would be mad. Oh, how his mother would despise him.

It was perfect.

James grinned again, and slapped his hand as he went past him. He took a seat at the Gryffindor table, along with other students, and waited for his friend to be sorted.

"Evans, Lily" was called, and the green-eyed girl was also put into Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make room for her on the bench, and she made the mistake of taking his offer. But seeing who he was, she turned her back and crossed her arms, not saying one word to him.

Then came "Lupin, Remus."

The staff jumped to attention, and scanned the heads of the first years to make out the next child. A tiny elfish professor spotted him first. He gave a tiny squeak and fell backwards off of his chair. All were entranced with this small boy, except for the sharp lady in green and the long bearded man. Even Hagrid the giant was caught staring at the boy. Yet at least he was smiling.

The little boy named Remus shuffled up the small stairs to sit on the stool. After a few seconds, the Sorting Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Remus smiled to himself, and made his way to the table under the lion's flag. He sat away from the students, trying to pretend as if he was the only Gryffindor student seated there.

"Mulciber, Martin." Slytherin. "Pettigrew, Peter." The pudgy boy, still sopping wet with lake feces, was put into Gryffindor. Finally "Potter, James" was called, and the two friends were reunited at the table.

"Snape, Severus," the lady said, and a hooked nosed boy rose to the stool. James looked back at the Sorting Hat's latest victim, and smiled.

Sirius, now bored with Snivellus Snape, looked up at the old bearded man. He caught him staring, and exchanged a look with him. It was the man off of the Chocolate Frog cards. It was Albus Dumbledore, and he was smiling at Sirius.

"Perfect," Sirius whispered. Dumbledore, long enemy to the Blacks, was smiling at him. He was in Gryffindor. He had a Gryffindor friend.

Looked like Father wouldn't be getting his pure blood grandchildren after all.

"Everyone, if you could take a seat and hold the noise," Dumbledore said, standing up. He was old, yet his eyes glittered with excitement as he faced the students. As he instructed, every student's focus turned to him, and slowly the Hall became silent.

"Thank you for your divided attention," he said in his hoarse voice, "Now, let's see. Well, first off I would like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts, and to the first years, welcome for the first time. Remember, this year, Mr. Filch has added another item to his growing list of illegal items on school grounds. He has now outlawed Jumping Jumpers in the dormitories. Also, if you will look to my right, you will see a new addition to the staff. Professor Klein comes to us all the way from Wales to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He has had experience in the field, and will be a large help. Possibly he will be able to make up for lost time. Our last teacher was definitely a waste of all our year."

The older students nodded their heads vigorously.

"Professor Klein, could you stand?"

A skinny man with a receding hairline rose to his feet to accept his applause. He bowed, and then returned to his chair.

"Oh, yes, and one last thing," Dumbledore said as the students turned away from Professor Klein. "We have a new addition to the grounds. You may have noticed it when you arrived. Professor Sprout and I have planted a Whomping Willow outside Gryffindor Tower. This tree is very dangerous, and we advise students to stay at least ten feet away from its branches. It has been known to become aggressive at times."

Sirius looked at James, and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know, but the more dangerous it is, the more pleasure we'll get from our year, eh?"

James laughed and said, "I knew I liked you for some reason."

"Thank you," Dumbledore concluded.

Mounds upon mounds of food appeared in front of the students, and a large "Oh!" sounded from the first years. Sirius hadn't seen so much food in his life! He grabbed at a turkey leg, and gnawed at it hungrily.

Remus watched him from across the table intently. Was it all right to just dig in? All of this food, sitting in front of him…and it was free…he could just pick it up and ate as much as he pleased? He felt his face gleam brightly as he took a handful of everything and set it on his plate. Oh, he was so hungry. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday's dinner, and he was starving. Turkey. Plum pudding. Pumpkin juice. It was all there in front of him, waiting to be taken. Oh, this was Heaven. This was what Remus had been hoping for.

After everyone had their share of the feast at the Gryffindor table, a fat fifth year with pimples on his face stood. He had a shiny badge sporting the letter "P."

"First years, could you follow me to the Gryffindor common room, please? Gather together. Come, let's go."

The food vanished, and Sirius and James jumped back in surprise.

"Whoa ---" James whispered, and then looked at Sirius.

Sirius returned his surprise.

"It's magic, huh?"

The pudgy boy with the rat --- Peter, his name was --- stood behind them, looking eager. Sirius forced a nod, and then sighed. That's right. The rat boy was in his dorm.

"First years!"

The three of them made their way out of the hall and up the marble staircase. Sirius could see the little boy with the silvery blond hair trudge behind all of them, looking at his feet. There was something different about him. The way the teachers had stared at him when he went to be sorted. Those circles under his eyes. Something wasn't quite right with him.

The sharp lady in green ran out of the Great Hall in a tizzy, and grabbed the boy by the shoulders. Sirius stopped to watch. What was going on?

She whispered something in his ear, and he nodded obediently. Then he followed her out of the first year line streaming up the staircase, and in another direction.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

A girl slammed into Sirius's side, and he turned around to look at his classmates. They were all glaring at him in disdain.

"Come on, Sirius," James said, pulling him up by the robes to keep up with him.

Sirius shook his head, and continued on his trip to Gryffindor Tower.


	4. Chapter 3: Dumbledore's Plan

**CHAPTER 3**

**Dumbledore's Plan**

"Sir?"

Dumbledore looked up from his desk through his half moon spectacles and smiled warmly at his guest. "Ah,young Remus. How are you?"

Remus edged his way through the door and into the Headmaster's office. It was gigantic --- enormous! On the walls and ceilings, there were hundreds of portraits of old and deceased Headmasters. On the floor there were large tables filled with different astronomical instruments. His father had owned some of them when he was little. Remus recognized one very clearly. _He_ had destroyed it when Remus was five. It had been a regular temper tantrum, and _he_ had smashed the glass orb without another thought. Remus had cried for days, trying to apologize for the terrible destruction he'd caused. His father had never bought another one.

"Come sit," Dumbledore said, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. "I would like to speak with you about your years here at Hogwarts."

Remus nodded and shuffled to the chair. He sat quietly, staring up at the old man in his pointed hat. He was so powerful, yet he looked so frail. How could one of the greatest wizards be this…old?

"Well, we have all been awaiting your arrival, Mr. Lupin," he said, pushing his papers aside and folding his hands. He was giving his most direct attention to him. No one had ever done that. Well, no, Remus had gotten attention; just not the kind that he wanted, "I am very pleased to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and this is Professor Sprout, and Professor Snorks."

Two dark figures stepped out from the shadows behind Dumbledore. Remus stared, wide eyed. He hadn't seen them when he had come in. There was the woman…Sprout, did he call her?...she was heavyset with frizzy and wild hair. The man was large and looked dangerous. His arms were bigger than Remus's waistline, and his hair was shaved clear off his head. He crossed his trunklike arms and stared at the shaking little boy in the chair. Yet he had a smile on his face.

"Professor Snorks teaches Arithmancy here," Dumbledore said, pointing at the large man, "and Professor Sprout is our Herbology expert. They will be accompanying you through the tunnels each month."

"Excuse me, Headmaster," Remus interrupted. He was shocked. What was he doing? This wasn't like him. "Erm…I don't quite know what you mean by 'tunnels'."

Dumbledore nodded and then gave a chuckle. "Ah, well, of course you wouldn't. I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin. Some times I trot ahead of myself. I have devised a certain ---precaution --- for your monthly transformation."

He stood and walked slowly to his window on the far left wall. The moon glistened in, and Remus felt fear tear at his heart. Yet the sight didn't bother Dumbledore at all.

"You must have heard me mention the Whomping Willow at the feast?" he said, looking out onto the grounds.

"Yes, sir," Remus said quietly. He was still staring at the moonlight. The moon. Oh, why did Dumbledore have to look at the moon? He knew in his heart the old headmaster was standing there with full purpose. He knew what frightened the little boy most.

"Well, we have planted this tree on our grounds for your purpose," Dumbledore felt the fear of the young student, and turned to look at him through his spectacles. "Every month, Professor Sprout and Professor Snorks will retrieve you from your common room. Professor Sprout will paralyze the Willow while you and Snorks stow off through a tunnel I have devised for you. At the end of this tunnel, there is a small shack that stands on a hill in Hogsmeade. It is boarded up and no one will be inside. After seeing that you are safe and secure, Professor Snorks will leave you for the night, and return to Hogwarts. In the morning, after your transformation, he will retrieve you and escort you to your next class. Does that sound reasonable?"

Remus nodded and then swallowed hard. "So…I'm going to be…alone?"

"Yes, I am sorry to say that you are," Dumbledore nodded, and then walked to him. "I do not know very much about these things, but I do know that you have no control over your actions as soon as you make the transformation. And I cannot endanger anyone's life. I wouldn't want anything riding upon your conscience." He drew closer. "This is for your protection as well, Remus. We still live in a world filled with doubts and fears. We wish for you to be safe from any harm that anyone would put on you. That is why I am going to ask you to not tell anyone outside of the staff about your condition, Remus. It is a cruel world out there, and I want to make sure that you have the best years of your life here at school. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Remus said gloomily. Of course he wouldn't tell anyone about his condition. If it had been up to him, only Dumbledore would have known about it. He hated how the teachers stared at him.

"Yes, well, very good. I expect that your transformation for August is complete and through?" he said, walking back to his desk.

"Yes, sir," he said, shivering. Last Friday night he had spent cooped up in his room, clawing his bedpost and shredding his pillow.

"Very good, then. The full moon is expected to rise on the 27th of September. Have your oldest robes on and be ready to leave by six o' clock that evening. My two colleagues here will ask for you in the common room."

"Thank you, sir. I understand," he said, and then got up to leave. He wanted to go to bed. He was so tired that he wanted to fall asleep as soon as he arrived in the Tower.

"Professor Sprout will escort you to your dormitory," Dumbledore said warmly, and he smiled at Remus with understanding eyes. "And remember, young Remus. A monster exists only because we call him a monster."

Remus didn't quite understand what he was saying, but nodded all the same, and followed the wild haired lady out of the door and down the stairs.

The door opened, and Sirius, Peter, and James were caught facing a large room filled with five beds. A young boy was already sitting at the end of one of them, unpacking his things and examining his clothes.

His eyes darted towards the door as the three of them journeyed in.

"Oh…hello. You must be the other first years," he said, and stood up, his hand extended. "I'm Darryl. Pleased to meet you."

Peter looked nervously at Sirius and James and then extended his own hand. "Pleased to meet-"

"Yeah, whatever," Sirius said, looking around at the beds. Which one would be the best to grab? The one closest to the window, or the one closest to the door? Door sounded all right. He could sneak out without anyone hearing him.

He crossed the aisle to the bed and sank down in the mattress. James followed before taking the bed closest to Sirius. Peter withdrew his hand from Darryl and claimed the canopy neighboring James. There was still one bed empty, but the trunk that held the belongings had already arrived. James peered at it from across the room in the dark, and silently made out the name "R. J. LUPIN" engraved on the trunk.

"My brother made it to Slytherin," Darryl said, "It's funny. It seems like half of us Averys go here to Gryffindor, and then the other half to –"

"Lupin, eh?" James said, drawing closer to the trunk. "Isn't that that one freaky kid with the grayish hair?"

"I think so," Sirius said, rolling over. He was so awake, but he knew that his body was pleading for sleep. He fought to stay awake. "I remember seeing him in the Great Hall. The one that the professors were scared of?"

"Yeah," Peter interjected, but didn't say anything else. He withdrew back into the shadows.

Darryl looked disdainfully at the trio and went back to unpacking his clothes. "You know, just because someone is a bit different doesn't give you the right to speak of him like that."

James shot Darryl a look. Great. There was one of those do-gooders in their dorm. This would spoil all of their fun for sure. Sirius seemed to have the same idea, because he snorted and rolled over to his right side.

It was late when Remus entered the dormitory room. All of his roommates were asleep and snoring. He saw his trunk pulled up to the foot of the only empty bed. The bed was in the corner and seemed secluded from the others. Or maybe it was just his imagination. He looked at the faces of his roommates. The pale black haired boy from the boats, and what seemed to be his best friend, a boy with thick round glasses. And then Peter, who he had pulled out of the water. Some boy he didn't know slept silently with a sleeping mask over his eyes. Quietly, Remus tiptoed across the room and opened his trunk. On top of his clothes was a note placed neatly for him to read. It was from his father.

Remus smiled and looked outside the window. The moon wasn't visible from where he was, yet a foreboding shadow of a crazed tree stood just outside the school, swaying with the wind. That was the Whomping Willow. Remus sighed and lay down in his bed. He didn't have enough energy to change his clothes. He closed his eyes before taking in a deep breath.

It was only a quarter of an hour later that all inhabitants of the room were fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 4: Moons and Mudbloods

**CHAPTER 4**

**Moons and Mudbloods**

The school was filled with the hustle and bustle of the first day. Students ran through the halls, desperately trying to find their classes on time. Sirius and James were leaning up against the wall, comparing their schedules. Peter was trying to catch up with them from behind the crowd that had set itself between him and his newly found friends.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts first, eh?" Sirius said, sighing. "Oh…great. Can't wait."

"Hey, we've got it with the Slytherins. Wonder if we'll see wittle Snivellus there," James chortled.

"Guys! Wait up!"

Sirius turned to see a chubby hand, waving over the heads of passing sixth years. He groaned, "What is with that kid? We give him a place on our boat and all of a sudden he's worshipping us," he mumbled to James as Peter drew nearer. He still had his rat clamped in his clammy hands.

"What's with that thing?" James asked, pointing at it. Peter smiled and said, "It was a present from me mum. I named him Wormtail. 'Cause if you look at his tail, he-"

"Interesting," Sirius said, obviously not engaged in the conversation. "I wonder where the class is."

"Excuse me."

The red streak bumped into Sirius, and continued walking. It was that Lily girl. Today she was sporting plastic bracelets on her wrist (Muggle décor). They jingled whenever she moved. Sirius smiled to himself as he watched the back of her head bounce along with her walk. He had never quite seen a girl like her before.

And neither, it looked like, had James. His mouth was wide open, and his eyes were wider than his mouth. Sirius laughed and patted him on the back, "Hey, James. No such luck. She's a Mudblood."

Peter and James stared at him in horror. All of a sudden, his friends' expressions had turned from amused to disgusted, and Sirius took a step back. He furrowed his brow. What was the matter? Why were they looking at him like that?

"What did you say?" James whispered.

"I said-"

"Don't say it again," James hushed him, and looked around nervously. "Uh, Sirius, mate…you don't say that. It's --- not very right --- to call someone a Mudblood."

"Yeah," Peter muttered.

"What? My father says it all the time ---"

"Well, your father shouldn't," James said, and shifting his bag onto his left shoulder, he took off after Lily. "Now come on," he said, trying to forget the discussion, "we'll follow her to the classroom."

Sirius looked after Peter as he ran to catch up with James, who was now skidding around a corner. What was so wrong with saying 'Mudblood'? Everyone at home used the word freely.

_Everyone at home is a Black_, he reminded himself. He shook his head and ran after James.

The classroom was dark and surrounded by stone walls. On the ceiling, an old and degraded skeleton of a dragon hung over the class. Cages filled with bones and sometimes real creatures flanked the desks that stood three in a row, seating two behind each. Sirius and James, obviously, shared a desk. Peter occupied the one behind them, sitting next to that white haired boy from the lake. He seemed appalled at something, because his nose was always in the air. _Peter doesn't smell that bad_, Sirius thought.

Behind them, the two boys could make out the pale face of "Snivellus" sitting next to the quiet Lily Evans. They were exchanging quiet notes back and forth, and Lily seemed to be very nervous for some reason. Finally, behind them sat R. J. Lupin, all by himself, reading over a book entitled _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

_Hey, he can't be that bad_, James thought, _if he likes Quidditch._

The door at the top of a staircase slammed shut, and the class turned forward in their seats to come eye to eye with the man from the feast. His receding hairline made his forehead look enormous, and his squinty eyes blinked at all of them. They were cold and unfeeling.

"Good morning, class," he said in his low voice.

"Good morning, Professor," they all said in unison.

He nodded and made his way down the stairs and to his desk. "Good, good. I am Professor Klein and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor this year. You were lucky enough not to have that idiot last year waste your time and memory space with his Auror tricks. Please put your book away, Mr. Lupin, before I confiscate it. Thank you. Now let's see here. I have the roll call here. Please rise when I call your name. Nar…Nar…Kissay?"

"Narcissa," Narcissa hissed from next to Snape.

"Oh, quite right you are," he said, taking out his glasses and rereading the name. "Narcissa Black? Is that you? Good, good. Next, Sirius Black?"

"Here," Sirius said, raising his hand high in the air.

Narcissa gave a coughing noise. Sirius smiled. She loathed him already. Good.

The roll call went on and on until finally Professor Klein rolled the scroll back up and placed it on his desk. He clasped his hands together and let out a breath.

"Well, it's our first day here, and so I don't want to swamp you with any homework."

There was a loud cheer.

"Of course, that means that we'll have to compensate for the lack thereof tomorrow."

The cheer was followed by a groan.

"This class will take serious concentration and constant vigilance from anyone who wants to exit my room without any sort of injury. We will be discussing the worst sort of Dark Arts creatures, along with the worst sort of wizards. We will begin with hinkypunks, grindylows, Red Caps, and we will finish off the semester with werewolves."

A chair shifted towards the back.

Professor Klein smiled to himself and continued on. "These are a few of the worst sorts of demons that inhabit our world today. You must be aware of the destruction that they can cause. The second semester will be dedicated to wizards, such as hexes, wizard duels, and possibly some research into the profession of Aurors. I, myself, am a retired Auror, and would love to pass my knowledge on to you. I can see many eager faces ready to get started. So let us take out the textbook, _The Dark Arts Defensive_ by Francis Colliers, and open to Chapter One."

Everyone did as they were told…except Sirius. He had heard about werewolves. There had been a man who lived a block away from him in London that had been bitten one night, and by morning had been whisked off to St. Mungo's Hospital. His father had ranted on and on for a good three hours about the disaster the man could bring to Grimmauld Place.

_Table of Contents_…_Werewolves and Where to Find Them_. Chapter fourteen. Sirius flipped the pages to chapter fourteen and gasped.

His eyes went wide, and he sat staring at the colorful picture in front of him. James turned toward Sirius, and looked over his shoulder.

"What? What's wrong?"

Sirius pointed at the monster on page 397. "Look at that!"

It was a full grown monster, crouched close to the ground, his tail swishing in the darkness. He thrashed his head about, mutely howling. The moon was above him. Below him, on the ground, there was red.

_Blood_, Sirius thought.

"Look at the size of those paws!" James said, pointing at one of the outstretched hands.

"Bloody hell," Sirius murmured, trying to take his eyes off of the werewolf. It was captioned underneath: _Werewolf – The full moon arrives to meet its prey. Illustration by Jacques Walters._

"Chapter One," Professor Klien continued. "Red Caps. Severus, would you mind reading?"

Snivellus cleared his throat, and leaned over far in his chair. His greasy black hair covered his face, and he began to recite in his dark voice.

Two rows back, another little boy was staring at page 397, eyes wider than Sirius's.

"Hey, guys!"

Peter sat his satchel next to James's and made himself comfortable across the table from Sirius. Sirius didn't acknowledge him, but kept on at reading the Daily Prophet. It was busy work (and a reason not to talk to Peter). Nothing important had happened. No big heists. No Dark Wizards congregating. Nothing. Only a headline that read _Gringotts Troll Insurance Policy Running Smoothly._

"Interesting morning, hey?" Peter said, working up the nerve to speak. "That Professor McGonagall is one tough lady, eh?"

"Yeah," James said, his eyes darting to Sirius.

Sirius ignored them both.

His mind was still on that picture. That evil picture of that werewolf. It had been so real.

"Hey, Sirius, look," James said, tapping his side, and pointing down the table at a fluff of red. It was Lily Evans.

Sirius felt his cheeks get red, "Yeah? What about her?"

"You really think she's out of my chances?"

"Huh?" Sirius said stupidly.

"Well," James fidgeted with his robe hems, "I mean, you said this morning I had no chance. You really think that?"

Sirius felt his lip curl. James was really in love with the red head. Not just a little schoolboy crush, but a full fledged over the moon love. He let a laugh escape his mouth. "I really don't see why she's so special."

"Well, just look at her."

"I'm looking, and I don't see anything," Sirius lied, and went back to his paper.

"Hey, Evans!"

Sirius groaned, and he saw James leap up from his seat and make his way to the huddle of giggly girls where the red head was sitting. Good thing for him, Snivellus was no where in sight.

"Evans!" James called again, and the girl turned around in her seat to look at him.

"Are you talking to me?" she asked, her friends all giggling stupidly behind her.

"Yeah, I am," James said so assuring that Sirius felt as if he was going to gag. "I was just --- uh --- wondering --- you know, if --- well, you seem to understand Herbology pretty well, and I got sort of lost."

"That might be because you were too busy hexing the planting pots," she said coolly, and she shot a glare to Sirius.

"Well, I never was good at that gardening stuff anyway," James recovered, and tried to act cool by messing up his hair. "I --- I mean --- if you could just sit down with me sometime and --- you know --- teach me-"

"I don't think I'll waste my time," she said, and returned to her lunch.

"Why?"

"If you don't have the discipline to listen in class, you're not going to listen to me," she said, still looking at her food. "Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to enjoy the rest of my break."

James looked taken aback. It seemed as if no one had ever said no to him before. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get it to work. Finally, he managed to say, "Fine, Evans. Fine. Let me flunk."

"I will," she said as James made his way back to his seat. He plopped down next to Sirius, muttered something that sounded like _women, _and went back to eating.

_Edna Rossins Gives Birth to Three-Headed Girl,_ read the next headline in the Daily Prophet. Sirius didn't have the energy to even scan the article. That picture on 397 was chiseled into his retinas, and all that he could see was that thing howling mutely on the page.

"Something wrong?" Peter asked quietly.

"No, I'm fine," Sirius murmured as he tried to look interested in the paper. It was actually the dullest thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Welcome to Potions," said a large and portly man from the front of the Dungeon. "I am Professor Slughorn, and this," he said holding up a textbook, "is a book. It has words inside it, with pages. It's a magical thing. Let's all try to open a book now. It may be a little difficult for some of you, being that it will be your first time trying. But I think we'll manage, eh?"

They all opened to the first page in _Potions for the Beginning Wizard_. Remus was, again, sitting alone in the back. He looked at Professor Slughorn with interest. It would be twenty eight days until he would be escorted down through the tunnel that Dumbledore had described. He knew why they had picked Professor Snorks. He was huge and strong. He could keep Remus in order if needed.

Remus shuddered.

Slughorn spotted him, and gave a little winkHe knew, too!

_No, don't wink at me!_ Remus thought. _Don't look at me! Just teach your class and let me get out of here!_

That red headed girl with the pretty eyes turned backwards in her chair to get a quick glimpse of Remus. Did she know? Did she suspect? After Professor Klein's class, it was almost obvious to everyone what he was hiding.

_No, Remus_, he thought, _you're just being paranoid again. No one knows. No one knows_.

Remus wrung his hands together faster.

After Professor Slughorn's class came the one that James had been looking most forward to - flying lessons with Madame Darsing. She was a spirited old lady, with her black hair pulled into a tight bun. There was a rumor floating around the school that she was the only female member of the Chudley Cannons in history, and every student had been so eager to meet this legend in person. But none of them could match the excitement of James Potter.

From the time that Darsing had walked onto the Quidditch field, James had taken in every word that she had uttered. She spoke in a thick, unrecognizable accent, so half of the students had no idea what she was talking about, but they were interested all in the same.

Even Peter was alert and attentive as she spoke about mounting the broom. Of course, there was no way of telling what on Earth she was saying, but her actions were so lively that a deaf person could have gotten along quite well in her class.

"All righ', nah yah gwripe yah handale li' sah," she said, gripping her broom, "An' ahn da coun' o' thrice, push ahf slowlah, ahntil yah lahn' on yah fee' propahlah."

"What?" said a Hufflepuff girl.

"Coun' o' thrice, rahdee?" Darsing said, ignoring the girl's question. She made a lunging movement on her broom, and all of the students understood immediately. They grabbed their sticks and got ready for takeoff.

"Ahn, Hoo, Thrice!"

And they were up off the ground, circling the pitch. Of course, they were all only about three feet in the air, but it was amazing to them all the same. The highest broom was at five feet, and that was James's. He smiled slyly down at Lily Evans. She squinted at him, as if not sure of what the buffoon was trying to do.

"Little better than gardening, huh?" he said, and then in a blink of an eye, was off to ten feet, then twenty feet, then thirty, and forty and…

"Mahs-terr Pah-tah!" Darsing exclaimed. Lily smiled, thinking that that was the end of that stupid boy. Oh, was he in trouble now! Oh, how he was going to get it.

"Ah-mah-zeen, Mahs-terr Pah-tah!" Darsing hooted from the ground. "Ah boot hah fah can ye gah ahp?"

James, of course, was now too high to hear her question, but he filled her with an answer as he soared higher and higher into the sky. One hundred feet, past the stadium bleachers ---

Sirius laughed as he shielded his eyes from the sun to see his friend. "There you go, Potter!" he shouted enthusiastically.

Lily, now on the ground again, walked past Sirius and muttered something that sounded like _showoff._ Sirius laughed again and landed.

James spent the entire lesson in the air, circling round and round the Quidditch pitch. Darsing forgot about her teaching, and stood in the middle of the field, instructing James on what to do, how to keep his broom steady, what sort of tricks he could manage. The rest of the students landed, looking lost and forlorn. After the first twenty minutes, the class decided to sit on the Gryffindor bleachers, and spent the remainder of the hour working on homework or sleeping. But Sirius and Peter just sat side by side, watching James lap the pitch for the hundredth time. He was walloping and screaming at the top of his lungs, having the greatest time he had ever had.

"Ah, Mahs-terr Pah-tah!" Darsing cheered as James finally landed. "Vah-ree eem-prah-sahve! Fahll mahks fah tahdaeee! Ahs fer thah rahst ahf yah!" She turned towards the dozing children on the bleachers. "Fahve pahnts frahm each of yah! Lahzee laht."

They had no idea what sort of punishment Darsing had bestowed upon them, but it didn't sound very enticing. They were a sad, sorry crowd as they walked back into the Great Hall for dinner.

"That was amazing!" Peter said, clapping gleefully as James rejoined him and Sirius. "You are one of the best flyers I've ever seen!"

"Well, thanks!" James said, mussing his hair again. "I've had a lot of practice. I was on a Quidditch team at home, you know. Played Beater, though. Not my cup of tea. I've always fancied Keeper."

"And you'd be pretty damned good at it, too," Sirius said as they walked into the school and out of the heat. "Peter's right. You should try out for the Quidditch team."

"Can't. They won't let first years play," James said. "But Madame Darsing says to try out when I'm a little older. They'll have to put me on the team!" his eyes gleamed with excitement. "Do you think Evans saw me? Do you think she caught how high I got?"

Behind them, a very sour looking Slytherin made his way into the main hall. Severus Snape was biting his lip, holding his broom, and looking loathingly at Potter's back.


	6. Chapter 5: Into the Tunnel

**CHAPTER 5**

**Into the Tunnel**

The first month of Hogwarts flew by fast for the three friends. They enjoyed each one of their classes, including Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sirius swore to himself he'd never look on page 397 again. He knew he would have to face that creature again at the end of the semester, but it would be best to delay the return of the illustration for as long as he could.

It turned out that James really did need a tutor in Herbology, since he was so awful at the subject. It wasn't that he was dumb in any sense of the word; actually, both he and Sirius were two of the brightest wizards their age. Their lack of good marks only could be blamed on the fact that they were unable to focus their minds for one second before they were both distracted by some sort of flower pot that needed blowing up or chicken skeleton that needed to dance. In lieu of these circumstances, Professor Sprout had appointed him a student helper on the third day, after he had been knocked out cold by a Mandrake after "not hearing instructions." R. J. Lupin, Herbologist extraordinaire, had been assigned to guide him through his homework for that night.

James and Sirius joked about the entire situation on the way back to the dormitory. It was mostly out of humility on James's part. Everyone had gotten quite a relief out of the fact that James wasn't perfect at everything, especially Lily Evans. She had been laughing when he awoke on the greenhouse floor.

"Stupid Sprout," James sniffed as they walked to the common room. "What does she know? And since when am I going to need to know about that plant stuff anyways? I'm going to be on the Chudley Cannons when I get out of here! Like Darsing. She's already given me a brochure about tryouts-"

"Password?" the Fat Lady interrupted.

"Dragon dung," James said offhandedly, before continuing on with his grunts. "I mean, I don't even need my O.W.L.s in that class. I think I'll drop it after second year. Go into Divination or something."

R. J. Lupin was already sitting in one of the puffed up chairs by the fireplace. He had brought a coffee table to the foot of the chair, and was laying his papers out perfectly on its surface. He looked scared out of his mind.

"Good luck," Sirius said, and he escaped up the spiral staircase.

James sighed, mussed his hair again, and took the seat next to the silvery haired boy. Remus looked at James in great surprise and sat back in his chair.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to show," he said quietly.

"Really?" James said, and leaned forward. "Thought I was a flunk out, huh?"

"Not quite." Remus went back to shuffling the papers. "A flunk out couldn't ride a broom that well."

James snorted and gave out a little chuckle. "So, I'm James Potter. Don't think we've properly met."

Remus looked at his extended hand, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards. He shook hands and said enthusiastically, "Remus Lupin."

"Cool." James leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "So, you going to teach me all this ruddy plant stuff?"

"No," Remus said bravely, "I'm going to help you with all this ruddy plant stuff." He handed him a book with a large weed on the front. "Can you open up to chapter two?"

"Sure," James flipped through the pages. He read aloud, "Plants are your friends. Interesting, and yet --- not so much."

Remus raised his eyebrow at James and then flipped his own book to the page. "They're talking about cures for magical diseases and jinxes. You may need to know that. What if you're sick right before a Quidditch tournament, and you need a quick cure? You'll be wishing for plants to be your friends. And you'll regret not listening to me."

James stared at this little boy. He was bossing him around! This little mousy boy was actually talking to him like an adult! The kid had nerve, he decided. The kid was all right by him.

_Maybe he could play wizard's chess with me and the guys later_, James thought, looking at his tutor. His tutor was looking back at him earnestly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You didn't hear a single word I said, did you?"

"Of course I did."

"So," Remus said, prodding him on. James waited for more to come, but nothing followed Remus' 'so'.

"So…what?"

Remus sighed. "The bubotubers. What are they used for?"

"They're --- used --- for ---" James searched the textbook page. Nothing about bubotubers. "A lot of things."

"Like?"

"Like --- erm --- herbs. And cures for magical diseases --- and --- and jinxes."

"A little more specific?"

"I --- hey, look over there! Carl's got a Mirva card! They do exist!"

James looked at Remus hopefully, but he was not budging. He didn't look very amused, either. Remus ran his fingers through his whitened hair and sighed a long and tired sigh.

"This isn't going to work," he said in his hoarse voice. "You don't want to learn. I can't force you to learn. Lily was right. You are a-"

"Wait a minute," James perked up, and glared at Remus. "Lily? Lily Evans?"

"Yes," he said. "What about her?"

"What did she say?"

Remus shook his head. "Nothing. She just said that it would be impossible to teach you. And she was right. I'm wasting your time, I can see, so I'll-"

"Wait a second, Remus," James said, pushing him back into his chair with a thud. "I'm not hopeless. I'm here to learn. I find Herbology a very interesting subject, really. And I think you can make me the greatest Herbolomer ever."

"It's Herbologist," Remus corrected.

"Yeah, right --- sure, I knew that," James shrugged. "Now please don't give up on me. I swear I'll listen."

Remus sighed again, and opened his book to the second chapter to return to his duties. James smiled and felt a liking towards this boy more than ever.

From that night on, James and Remus sat for at least an hour, reading over the Herbology textbook until they were ahead of the class and ahead of Lily Evans. James smiled to himself. That thought gave him satisfaction. Who needed her anyways? She was just a girl. There were plenty more at Hogwarts.

Remus had also begun to befriend Sirius when Sirius had also fallen behind on his studies. Yet it was Defense Against the Dark Arts for him, and Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be Remus' specialty. Soon it was found to be Sirius's strong spot as well, as soon as he began to render his thoughts a little less to jinxing the Slytherins and more to writing his inches of parchment.

Soon the three boys could be found dutifully curled up by the fire from six to six thirty with Professor Sprout's diagrams, and six thirty to seven with Professor Klien's worksheets. Peter would sometimes sit behind them on one of the couches, eating Every Flavor Beans and peering down their back intently at every single motion they made. Sometimes he would pipe up and ask a question about something or other, and Remus would happily explain. It was a miracle, the rest of the Gryffindor students thought, to see Sirius Black and James Potter sitting down for a lesson during their free time. They didn't even listen in class, let alone any other time of the day. They thought Remus to be a miracle worker because he could make them sit down on a scheduled basis and actually study.

Remus was filled with joy. He was making new friends. The three boys were the closest thing to real companions that he had ever had. His entire life he had been at home with his mother and father only to keep him company. They hadn't dared send him to Muggle school or let him play with any of the other children. That is, the other children didn't want to be around him. But now his entire life had changed. Not one of them knew who…what…resided inside of him. They didn't know about him. And Remus was going to keep it that way.

Yet the night of the twenty-seventh drew nearer, and one evening, Remus caught himself looking at the calendar that was hung on the wall. It was the twenty-seventh. He wouldn't be able to tutor them tomorrow. He would have to tell them that. Somehow he would have to make it sound nonchalant.

"Uh, guys," he said, opening his mouth to speak. James and Sirius were too busy laughing over an abstract picture of a boggart. It showed a mummy wrapped in pink bows.

"Guys," he said a little louder, and James looked up at him.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I'm not going to be able to tutor you tomorrow night."

"And why not?" James said, snapping to attention, "Professor Klien said we're going to have a quiz on grindylows two days from now! You've got to help us cram."

"You're going to have to do it by yourself," he said quietly before standing up. "I got an owl today from my Mum. I'm leaving for two days. She's really sick. I want to see her."

James looked like he was going to comment on Remus' story, but Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and said, "Oh, all right. Sure. Hope she's okay. I'll help James with his studying."

"Okay, thanks," Remus whispered, feeling as if he was going to cry. If only he could stay and help them with grindylows. If only he could delay it just for a few hours. But no, he had to remember the safety of the students. Dumbledore trusted him to be wise about his decisions. He couldn't let Dumbledore down after all that he had done for him.

All of a sudden, he felt very sick.

Professor Snorks rapped on the door the following evening. The Fat Lady screamed an "Oh my word!" and Remus, with his shabbiest robes on, ran out of the common room, and opened the portrait from behind. He was already starting to feel it creep up behind him. Start to strangle him. He had to get out of the school. Before the clouds let the moon shine through.

"Ah, there you are, Remus," Professor Snorks said joyfully as Remus shut the Fat Lady behind him. "Just in time, too, I see. Yes, the clouds are parting. Hurry now. We haven't much time."

Remus coughed and followed Snorks to the bottom of the tower, where Professor Sprout stood waiting as well. She had a very large stick in one hand and a steel something in her other. She was trying to hide it from sight, but Remus knew what it was. It was cuffs. And the cuffs were for him. He was a monster.

"Now cheer up, dear," Sprout said as they escorted him out of the school and onto the grounds. "It'll all be over soon."

Remus moaned. He looked up at the sky where the moon began to peak out of his hiding place. It had been a rainy day, filled with clouds. But now they were dispersing, and the clear night sky was beginning to take form. If only it could be delayed for just a minute or two. Just so he could get through the tree and into the tunnel. Just a few minutes. Oh, please.

But whoever was in charge of the stars and the moon and the clouds did not hear his plea. Either that or they did not care for this helpless boy with a monster residing inside his heart. Just as soon as the three had reached the Willow, the moon's rays shone bright upon the ground.

"No!" Remus choked, and he fell limp in Snorks' arms. Snorks grabbed him and swung him over his shoulder. Remus was writhing, trying to get free of his grasp.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Hurry, Professor!" Snorks shouted at Sprout as she ducked a branch taking a swing at her. She extended the stick to touch a knot in the trunk, and all of a sudden, the Willow was still. Beneath the tree, Remus could faintly make out a dark hole. Is that where they were going? Into the darkness. Oh, please let it be so.

"LET ME GO!" he screamed.

Snorks tightened his grip on the little boy, and descended into the black tunnel below. Sprout stayed behind, darting her gaze around the grounds, making sure that no one saw what had just happened. No one was in sight. They were safe this time.

Into the darkness Snorks went. Remus was twitching in pain. He couldn't take it anymore. Just let him die! Leave him here and let him die! Let it end!

"PLEASE HELP ME!" he screeched as Snorks started to ascend into the bright light again. Remus closed his eyes. They were trying to kill him! It was the moonlight again! The pain increased, and then doubled.

"OH PLEASE NOOOOO!"

Snorks set him down in what felt like a couch. Was he back in the common room? Were Sirius and James there? Was it already time to start studying? Which was first? Herbology or ---

"AAAAHH!" The pain tripled throughout his body. "AAAAH -"

The scream turned into a howl. Snorks stood there, staring. He was paralyzed with fear. He was staring at him. He couldn't move. Remus felt anger boil up inside of him. How dare he stare! How dare he stand there and fear him! Snorks quickly jumped back through the hole and slammed the door.

"NOOO!" Remus screamed, holding onto his voice. "DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! PLEASE COME BACK! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!"

And then another howl escaped his mouth, and he was forgotten. Forgotten by Dumbledore, forgotten by Sprout, forgotten by Snorks. And most of all, forgotten by Remus.

Remus no longer reigned here in this unknown place. _He_ was powerful, unlike Remus. _He_ was swift and strong and bold and brave. _He_ was the wolf of the night, the predator of the woods.

_He_ was almighty.

_He_ sniffed the room. Blood. Fresh blood. It was his own. The only blood there was. _He_ saw his leg. _He_ saw the blood in the veins underneath the flesh. _He_ saw it beat to a pulse that was alive. _He_ saw the red mixing with the purples and the blues. The blood was alive. The blood --- was --- all --- _his_ ---

The wolf howled again as he collapsed on the floor. His leg was gushing red now. He had just bit himself. Had just tried to eat his own ---

He growled and smelled another fresh scent. Blood! Blood again! Oh, how he was hungry! Food! Flesh!

He screamed in a howl and fell again, his chest now punctured with fang marks. He lay, dazed for a moment, before he saw the red on the floor, and leapt towards it. He lapped it up. It tasted so warm. So refreshing. He must have more.

The wolf saw his own footprint, in a reddish liquid, and pounced on it. He must have that satisfying taste! He must drink more! He must have more!

There was another wolf here! He could see him in the glass! He was looking right at him. He had fang marks on his chest as well.

The wolf charged, and with a shatter, the mirror broke on top of him. Blood! He could smell it even more so now. It was everywhere! It was covering him! Eat it! Drink it! Savor it!

Soon the blood was gone, and he needed more. He needed more flesh! More food! More ---  
He howled a chilling scream again, and his side became red with teeth marks.

The wolf was mad. The wolf was raging now. Nobody bit him! Nobody!

He struck.. Another unearthly howl. Another pain shot up his leg and into his brain.

The moon's light was unmerciful. It shone on the back of creature. Its hair stood on end. His muscles began to shake. He was powerful! He was strong! He was the wolf!

What woke him in the morning was the sound of footsteps behind the trap door. He was too weak to raise his head to look at his visitor. His mouth was caked in red. His robes were wrapped around his body like a large blanket. He was so exhausted. He couldn't stay awake.

Professor Snorks' face appeared from the dark tunnel, and stared at the child in horror. Remus lay on the floor, his arms limply by his sides. They were covered in claw marks and teeth had penetrated them, he could tell. His hair was a little whiter, and under his eyes…large black circles. His cloaks were shredded, and his breathing was shallow.

"My God," Snorks whispered as he ran to the little boy's aide. Remus was unresponsive to him, and only groaned a little when Snorks picked him up in his arms.

"Mum," he croaked.

"Shhh, Remus," Snorks said, and descended back into the tunnel.

Remus dozed in and out of consciousness. He remembered Professor Sprout's face when she got her first glimpse of him. The sun was just rising. It was early in the morning. Before classes. He knew that the teachers were surprised. He remembered faintly that Dumbledore had instructed Snorks to escort him to his first class.

That was a laugh.

"Oh, my dear," Professor Sprout said, and she took Remus' lifeless hand as they made their way through the school and to the hospital wing.

He could faintly see Madame Pomfrey's face as she fussed over him, tutting about this and that, cleaning his cuts and bruises. Washing the blood off of his face. Changing his robes. Setting him in a bed far away from all of the other patients.

Remus lay there. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He was dead to the world. He was dying. He was so weak. Bloody moon. Why him?

His shallow breaths became quieter, and Professor McGonagall's and Headmaster Dumbledore's voices could be heard.

"I don't think he'll be making it to class today, Minerva," Dumbledore whispered.

"It's worse than we thought," Professor McGonagall added.

"Well, I'll give him some chocolate and some Bloodjuice," Madame Pomfrey whispered. "That may help him feel better. Poor little tyke."

"Have you ever seen anything like it, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No, I have not."

_Let them talk,_ Remus thought, _let them gawk at the monster. I'm used to it. I'm-_

He choked again, and gave out a wail.

"Oh, shh," Madame Pomfrey whispered, patting his hand,"You'll be fine. Just a few scratches." Turning back to Dumbledore, she added, "It could have been worse. He could have been killed."

"I would be more than happy to accompany him to the Shack next month," Professor McGonagall offered, but Dumbledore must have said no, because nothing else was said on the subject.

"He must battle his own monsters," Dumbledore said before leaving the ward.

_He must battle his own monsters_, Remus repeated to himself. These words ran through his head until finally he dozed back into peaceful sleep and dreamt of fireplaces and textbooks.

Remus hadn't shown in the first period class. Or lunch. Or even dinner. He was gone the entire day. Finally, he arrived, worn out and tired, in the common room around eight o' clock. Sirius and James confronted him as soon as he entered through the portrait's hole.

"Where were you?" Sirius asked.

"My mum's real sick," Remus murmured, not looking any of them in the eye. He looked horrible. Spooked, almost. They had never seen him like this before, and it scared them.

"Is she that bad?" he asked Remus as Remus walked past them and to the spiral staircase.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, and disappeared behind the balcony.

"Was it worth me flunking my quiz?" James shouted after him, but no answer came.

Sirius nudged him. "What?" James asked.

Peter still sat in his usual spot, feeding Wormtail the rat Every Flavor Beans. The rat was squealing with disgust as a horse radish flavored pellet was forced down his throat. Peter couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"I saw him up in the hospital wing this morning," a voice whispered from across the common room. It belonged to a third year by the name of Jenny Fisher. "He looked horrible. He was covered with scratch marks and blood and all sorts of things."

"Who?" her friend asked.

"That weird boy with the whitish hair? The one that just came in?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Jenny continued, and she shuddered. "He looked horrible," she repeated for emphasis.

Sirius heard this and stared after his new friend. What had happened? Why hadn't he told them?

"There's something different about that kid," Sirius grunted as he made his way back to Peter and the fireplace. "I don't know what, but there's something a little off kilter."

"Yeah," James agreed, and he followed Sirius to the front of the hearth.


	7. Chapter 6: Peeves and the Feast

**CHAPTER 6**

**Peeves and the Feast**

Professor Klein glared disdainfully as Remus entered the room on Monday morning. He slammed a book in front of the tired first year and snarled, "Let me guess, you didn't do your make up work?"

Remus shook his head, as if it were an obvious answer.

Klein snorted and then said under his breath, "So typical for your kind. Lazy, unworking thieves. You have a detention with me this evening to get caught up."

Remus was in shock. All he could do was nod and let Klein get the best of him. Klein smiled and returned to the front of the class to begin the lesson.

"Now, we are moving onto hinkypunks today. Take your parchment and quills out, and begin copying these notes," he tapped his wand onto the chalkboard, and a long outline appeared. "I want them done by the end of class."

"""""""""

All of Hogwarts was looking forward to the Halloween feast. Sirius had heard of pumpkins flying in mid air, and as much pie you could stuff in your face. He had also heard that horrible things happened on Halloween. Ah, well. Why let the legend go to waste? He and James were already beginning to piece together an amazing prank that would include Peeves the Poltergeist, a tub of pumpkin juice, and bubble gum.

It was the very morning that James and Sirius were discussing their ingenious plan in the Great Hall when it came. It was a red envelope with a pretty gold bow tied around it. But Sirius knew what it was as the owl dropped it in front of him. It was a Howler, addressed to him.

"I'd open it up if I were you," James said, staring at it in horror.

Sirius wouldn't need to open it to know what the Howler was about. He knew it was from his mother or father --- maybe both.

He tore the envelope open, and sure enough, as soon as he had touched the letter, the words echoed through the Hall, screaming and jeering at Sirius.

"SIRIUS BLACK! YOU FILTHY INGRATE! DO YOU HAVE THAT MUCH DISRESPECT TO OUR NAME THAT YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN GRYFFINDOR? YOUR COUSIN TELLS US THAT YOU'VE BEFRIENDED HALF-BREEDS! MUDBLOODS! THE HEADMASTER HIMSELF! YOU DON'T DESERVE YOUR SURNAME! YOU DON'T DESERVE THE HOUSE WE PUT OVER YOUR HEAD! DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS, YOU LITTLE TWIT!"

The Howler ripped itself in halves, then in quarters, and lay before a smiling Sirius as it smoldered on the wooden table top. James stared at it, and then to Sirius, who was now leaning back in his chair, balancing on two legs. His head behind his hands, he sighed happily.

"Good," he said, "I'm a disgrace to the Blacks."

James went back to staring at the Howler. "I'm guessing that was your mum?"

"Oh, yeah," Sirius said, coming back to four legs. "Loving, caring, old mum. Oh, how I miss her," he wiped the remnants of the Howler off of the table, completely aware that everyone in the Hall was looking at him. He didn't care, though. Let them look. That way they would know that he was never going to be like his family. He was Sirius Black. Not son to the Blacks, but his own sort of Black.

"Wow," was all Peter managed to say, before digging into his food again.

"You know," James said, sort of looking at Sirius through the corner of his eye, "if you would like, we've got a spare room at my house for Christmas. If you'd like to come home with me in December --- I know my mum and dad wouldn't mind."

Sirius stopped his gloating for a moment and returned the half-eyed stare to James. Here was a boy that was obviously from a respectable background, inviting a Dark lineage like his into his home, his heart, and his family. No one had ever been generous towards him before, and he had to smile.

"I may take you up on that, Potter," he said, and went back to his breakfast.

From across the table, Remus Lupin looked at Sirius Black. He wanted to disappoint his family. He wanted to change. Sirius caught Remus staring, and looked up from his food. Remus only smiled, and Sirius, a little confused, smiled back.

""""""

The end of the month drew nearer, and two things were on the children's minds. Sirius, James, and Peter could only think of the great hoax they would be playing on the school. It was all in place.

Remus, on the other hand, was dreading the return of the nightmare.

He had been asked by his new friends to help out with the prank, but he had to decline. Sirius had snorted and said, "What? Scared you'll get in trouble?"

"No," Remus said, "I'm going back home again."

"Why?" Peter asked, grabbing a handful of Ever-Blowing Gum from the dormitory floor.

"My –"

"Mum, we know." James huffed and went back to hiding the tubs of pumpkin juice behind his bed. "What's new."

"Well, it isn't my fault she's sick," Remus defended himself as he helped move another tub behind his own bedpost. "It isn't like I'm choosing to go. I have to. I need to see her. What if something bad happened, and I was playing pranks here with you?"

James opened his mouth to reply to that, but Sirius stepped in yet again. "That's all right, Remus. We understand. Don't we, James?"

James grunted a "Yeah, sure" and went to help Peter with the gum packages.

"I'm sorry I can't help," Remus said soberly, "I really wish I could."

"I know, I know," James said begrudgingly.

Remus nodded and looked to the back of the tall boy, now struggling to stop the gum from blowing and popping all over the room.

"Peter! What kind of gum _is_ this?"

"Uh --- "

James laughed and checked his watch. "You guys better get that cleaned up. Ickle Darryl is due to arrive soon."

Sirius gave a groan of disgust, and he took his wand out to make the task go faster. Remus grabbed another tub and placed it under his mattress. He had been having nightmares about the upcoming Halloween. He wanted to see Dumbledore about a new way to transform --- possibly one that included someone with him ---

He was due to see Dumbledore the night before the thirty-first, and he hoped wholeheartedly that it was because of another option.

Sadly, it wasn't. The Headmaster had only summoned him to remind him to be ready promptly at four o' clock the next evening. Remus felt anger boil up inside of him. How could this man --- so powerful, and so great --- smile at him and pretend as if nothing was wrong? He had thought that by telling his problems to Dumbledore that everything would be solved. Surely the greatest wizard ever to live would have the solution to this curse. He would be able to cure him!

No such luck.

"Sir, can I please ask if someone could accompany me tomorrow night?" Remus asked nervously. His scarred hands rubbed together again, very fast.

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Professor Snorks will escort you to the shack as always."

"No, I mean --- " Remus sighed and then shifted slightly in his seat."All night. Even if they're behind bars or something. Or in another room --- or-"

"I told you before, Remus," Dumbledore interrupted, "I cannot put that on your conscience. For you will bite them in due time. Something will happen. And I cannot let you live with that. I understand that you are afraid, Mr. Lupin. I would be, too, if I were you. Yet, I know that you are a smart lad, and that you will find your own way out of this --- misfortune. Times are changing. And we must change with them."

Remus looked into the eyes of the old Headmaster, and pleaded with him in his mind. He couldn't do it again. He wouldn't survive. Maybe he thought it was all very well and good that he mauled himself, and then was patched up in the hospital wing every month, but Remus knew that it could not continue. At least at home his mother would talk to him under the door. He would know where he was. A little bit of himself stayed alive in the monster when he heard her voice. But no one was there for him now. He was alone.

"Headmaster, could I ask you something?" Remus asked, fidgeting with his sleeves.

Dumbledore smiled again. "Yes, what is it?"

"I heard you in the hospital wing. By my bed. You were there, right?"

He smiled even wider and said, "Yes, Remus. Of course I was there."

Remus felt his eyes fall to the ground. It was carpeted in purple, "Well, you said that I had to fight my own monsters. Professor, I don't really understand what that means."

"You will someday, Mr. Lupin. Someday you will," Dumbledore said, and then he showed Remus out the door.

"""""""

October thirty-first was the date. Everything was in place. James and Sirius couldn't sit still the entire day during their classes. They were too excited about the upcoming night. Twenty tubs of pumpkin juice and forty boxes of Ever-Blowing Gum had been purchased off of the black market that consisted of the third years and their trips to Hogsmeade. Peeves was their finishing touch. Sadly, Peeves was not known for his cooperation with students and their pranks, so they were planning to trick him into the plan.

It was the night of Halloween when the students quickly filed down the marble staircase into the Great Hall. Sirius, James, and Peter had said that they wanted to see Remus off, and were allowed to stay in the common room until four o' clock.

Remus looked horrible and he was shaking constantly. He blamed it on a draft, but Sirius and James were both sweating horribly and any sign of a draft was nonexistent.

"Well, good luck tonight, you three," he said, wringing his hands together.

"Thanks," James said. "And I hope your mother feels better."

"I doubt it," Remus mumbled, and his voice broke. It must be hard to have a mother that sickly that you had to leave school to see her. James sighed. He wanted to comfort him somehow, but he doubted anything he did could help.

Sirius was oblivious to any parental love, and so he continued scanning over the map of the school. They didn't know very much about Hogwarts yet, but they did know the main corridors and halls. Sirius and James had ventured out one weekend to explore, and they had found great places. Peter had accompanied them and had drawn out the map as they walked. Upon arriving back at the common room, they had begun to skillfully plan their Halloween night. They were to disperse as soon as they saw Remus off. Professor Snorks was due to arrive any minute.

"Aren't you going to take anything with you?" James asked. Remus shook his head, and James didn't ask anything further.

A few minutes later, the Fat Lady gave out a horrible scream as a hard fist landed on her stomach. Remus shot up out of his seat, waved to his friends, and then disappeared behind the portrait.

"I'll be back tomorrow, with a little luck," he said as he shut the portrait.

Sirius stood to his feet, pointed at Peter, and said, "Go get the gum, and start chewing. James, are the tubs in place?"

James nodded and gave a thumbs up sign. "All we need is Peeves, and we're set."

"Great," Sirius said, rubbing his hands together in earnest. "Let's get this thing started."

"""""""""""

Peeves could usually be found in the third floor corridor harassing Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's kitten. Even for a young ball of fluff, she was feisty and didn't like to be messed with.

"Pretty little kitty goes flying out the window," Peeves said, trying to shoo Mrs. Norris to the closest window. "Fly, kitty, fly!"

"Hey, you big galoot!"

Peeves forgot about Mrs. Norris and turned around to face Sirius, who was standing with a wad of gum as big as his head.

"What did the Black brat say to Peevsey? Did he call me a galoot?" Peeves silver lip curled.

"Yeah, that's right," Sirius said bravely, and stretched the gum wad as wide as his arms could go. "_Stuccio_," he said quietly, and then added out loud, "Wanna do something about it?"

"Little Gryffindor brat. Black Brat. Brat's Black!" Peeves sung as he drew closer, and then finally he charged. He was planning on whizzing right through the gum wad, but it stuck on him like glue.

"Brat Black!" Peeves screeched, and Sirius ran for his life down the corridor and to the changing staircases.

"Go! Go! Go!" he screamed at James, who was waiting at the end of the first set of stairs. "He's coming!"

_Pop! Pop! Pop!_ The Ever- Blowing Gum exploded all over the poltergeist as he floated after the two boys.

"Black Brat! Four eyed freak! Peevesy will make you pay! Pay pay pay!" Peeves howled as his face was covered in pink bubbles.

"To the Hall!" Sirius instructed, and they skidded around a corner. They passed a dark crevice where Peter stood with a sack full of feathers.

"Now!" Sirius hollered as him and James flew down another staircase. Peter bit his lip, listening to the frightening sounds of the approaching ghost.

"You will pay for your bubbles! For your trick! Peeves doesn't get tricked! Peeves only tricks you! You don't trick Peeves!"

_Pop! Pop! Pop!  
_

"Go, Peter! What're you waiting for?" James shouted over his shoulder as they disappeared down the marble staircase, making sure to quickly dodge the ten foot wall of pumpkin juice tubs at the bottom.

Peter gulped and, shutting his eyes, let the feathers go just in time for them to be caught in the mess of wandering spirit and bubble gum.

"AAAGGGHHH! THE RAT BOY TOO! CONSPIRACY AGAINST PEEVESY! I SEE! I SEE!" Peeves shrieked as he sped off down the staircase and right into the wall of pumpkin juice. "AAAAGGHH!"

The twenty tubs slammed into the Great Hall door, and it banged open with a resounding noise. There was shrieking inside as Sirius and James appeared in the rafters of the enchanted ceiling. No one could see them, as they were disguised in the night sky. Sirius took his wand out, and James followed his action.

"_Exploita!"_ Sirius shouted as he aimed his wand at a tub close to Lily Evans. It exploded, and the pumpkin juice was flung ten feet into the air. Lily screamed, and Dumbledore stood to survey what was happening.

_"Exploita!"  
_

_"Exploita!"  
_

One by one the twenty tubs burst into shards and slivers and the contents were spewed onto the students. Sirius and James held their sides, trying not to fall out of the rafters. Their laughing was covered by the sounds of screams below, and Professor Klein shouting and hollering, trying to clean everything up.

_Pop! Pop! Pop!  
_

"RAT BOY! RAT BOY!" Peeves screamed as he came sliding into the Great Hall, bubbles still exploding on his body.

There was a larger scream as everyone ran to the opposite side of the hall and ducked behind the teacher's table. Peeves continued flying through the room, trying to scrape the gum off of his transparent self. Nothing was working.

Peter ran in and looked from one drenched student to another, and finally at Peeves. His face was one of pure horror.

"Oh my --- " he mouthed.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to have enough, and he walked to Peeves and raised his wand. "_Imparius_!" he said forcefully, and the bubble gum dropped to the floor. Peeves gave one more howl, and then pointed his white finger at Peter.

"RAT BOY DID IT! HIM AND HIS TWO LITTLE RAT FRIENDS! BLACK BRAT AND FOUR EYES! OH THEY ARE IN TROUBLE NOW! DUMBLY DOOR KNOWS ABOUT THEIR PRANK ON PEEVESY! PEEVESY DID NOTHING TO THEM!"

Peter gulped as Dumbledore glanced over to him, and then, surprisingly, up to the rafters and right at Sirius. He shook his head and pointed his wand to the enchanted ceiling.

"_Dissapparto_," he said offhandedly, and the night sky disappeared from sight to reveal a wooden ceiling and two first years hanging on for dear life by their limbs. Sirius smiled, trying not to break out in another fit of laughter.

"Hello, Professor," he said weakly. "Happy Halloween!"

"""""""""""

"I would have expected better of you, Pettigrew," Professor McGonagall scolded. They were in her office, standing in a line, hands in front. Peter squeaked when he heard his name and tried to become invisible in the shadows. "Doing a thing like this! Disrupting a long held tradition of Hogwarts, harassing a resident ghost, stealing food from the-"

"Hey, I bought that food with my own money!" Sirius defended himself, but he fell silent as soon as he saw Professor McGonagall's face.

"And you, Mr. Black," she said, growing stern. "After seeing which house the Sorting Hat chose for you, I would have thought to see greater things out of you. Both of you! Mr. Potter, this is not a laughing matter."

James clamped a hand over his mouth. "Well, you have to admit, Professor," he said through his fingers, "It was pretty ingenious."

Professor McGonagall's expression became softer, and she let a smile escape to her face. "Yes. Yes it was. But it also broke about twenty school rules."

"Oh, please, Professor," Peter begged, speaking up again, "please don't expel us!"

"I'm not going to expel you, Mr. Pettigrew." Professor McGonagall sighed, sitting back in her chair. "But I am giving you all a month's worth of detentions. And that includes Mr. Lupin for assisting you in this little escapade."

"Lupin?" Sirius interrupted. "He didn't do anything! It was just the three of us."

"Your roommate, Darryl Avery, informed us of five tubs of pumpkin juice tucked behind his bedpost," Professor McGonagall said, staring right at Sirius.

Sirius glared. The evil sniveling little ---

"Remus didn't do anything to help us," James said, stepping on Sirius's foot. "Really, he didn't know anything about it."

"Yeah," Sirius added, "he's been too worried about his mum. She's been sick, and-"

Professor McGonagall's smile seemed to widen, but just for a moment before it disappeared completely and she shook her head. "Mr. Black, that doesn't account for him hiding the-" 

"We hid them, Professor," Sirius said bravely. "He didn't even know they were back there. Like I said, he's been preoccupied --- "

Sirius had run out of excuses. Yet the old lady decided to take his word, and let the three of them go with two week's detention, cleaning out the second floor restrooms nightly.

"Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Black," she said as the boys exited the room. Sirius, the last in line, turned to face her, and she motioned for him to resume his place in front of her desk. He groaned and took a seat in an emerald chair.

James and Peter closed the door quietly, and Sirius crossed his arms and faced Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Black, I know about your family's history," she said, taking a quill and writing something on parchment, "and I have been very impressed at your attitude toward your magic so far. Before tonight, I thought that maybe you had chosen a --- wiser --- path than your father."

"Yeah?" Sirius said, half interested.

"And tonight I saw you slipping back into your lineage." She stopped writing and peered at him over her glasses. "Don't let yourself sink low. You could take a leaf out of Mr. Lupin's book." She smiled that secretive smile again and went back to writing. "You may go."

Sirius got up to leave, crossed the room, and let himself out.


	8. Chapter 7: The Illustration of Page 394

**CHAPTER 7**

**The Illustration of Page 397**

The holidays drew nearer, and Sirius found himself looking forward to his visit to the Potter's house. James had sent a letter home asking for permission. His parents had written back saying that they would be more than happy to house Sirius for the two weeks' break, and that they would set up the guest room as soon as possible.

Sirius was so overjoyed at not having to spend a Christmas alone at Hogwarts. Remus had been at the table when the mail had arrived, and he had listened earnestly to his two friends talk about the great adventures they would have over the holidays.

"We could make snowmen and bewitch them to dance around," James said, "and we always have a Christmas tree with all sorts of ornaments. Sprite always does a great job with the decorations. On Christmas Eve, we sit around the fire and tell stories and read books. We even roast chestnuts. And not with magic. No, the Muggle way. Father Christmas --- I mean, Mum and Dad --- set the presents under the tree, and there's a whole load of 'em when you wake up. I bet they'll be some for you, too, Sirius. You're our guest."

Sirius beamed. A real genuine Christmas without the stingy smell of the Lestranges overriding the scent of goose that was equally as bad. No cousins clawing for the closest toy box, no perfume wearing aunts, no disappointed parents. He was going to have the greatest time of his life.

And so would his mother and father. They wrote back saying that he had permission to spend the break at James's house, and it seemed to be a very joyful letter. He was sure that the disgrace that he had brought to his father's name had found its way through the family and back to his parents. He didn't care, though. Good riddance.

Remus looked at the letter and smiled sheepishly. "Sounds like loads of fun," he said. "Hope you two have a great time."

James's face dropped and he took the letter from Remus. "Well, you know, Remus, we'd be more than happy to have you, too. You and Sirius could share a room, or I could sleep on the couch and-"

"I can't, but thanks anyway," he said quietly and went back to his breakfast. "I --- uh --- well, you know. My mum and all --- "

Sirius held back a groan, and tried to look sympathetic. James nodded and patted Remus on the arm. "Well, I know that seeing you will make her feel loads better."

Remus smiled. If only it were true. He would be spending Christmas Eve locked up in his room again, clawing at the shredded bedpost. Christmas would be used up for a trip to St. Mungo's again, to be patched up. His parents hadn't enough money to buy any gifts. But he still felt warm inside, knowing that James had offered to give him a place at his house. He had heard about James and Sirius's gesture of friendship from Peter upon returning from the shack a second time. The thought of the two of them, saving him from detention, was enough for him to return James' smile.

"Thanks," he said, and he dug into his food.

"""""""""

The Christmas feast was short and sweet for the four of them. They were constantly being watched by Professor McGonagall, and Sirius couldn't enjoy his meal. He thought that the teachers were waiting for him to sprout horns and a pointy tail and start dancing on the table. They all knew that he had been the ringleader of their Halloween joke. They all thought he didn't deserve to be in Gryffindor. Oh, would he show them.

"I don't think they trust us, mate," James whispered to him as he jutted a finger to Professor McGonagall.

Their last lesson before the holidays was Professor Klein's. It was the last day of the semester, which meant that it was time for the class to turn to page 397 again. The face of the monster stared back up at Sirius, and he shut his eyes. He had avoided the illustration this far, and he was not giving into it now.

"Werewolves," Professor Klein said, looking at the picture in his book. "One of the most dangerous humanoids ever discovered."

The same chair in the back shifted, and Klein smiled again.

"Every month, when the full moon rises, the victims of the curse become crazed monsters, and wreak havoc on this world. The worst part of it all is that they are aware of what their actions," he paused, and directed his attention to the back of the room. "No matter what other theories say." He then started to write vocabulary words on the board, still talking over his shoulder. "This is where some of my expertise comes in. As I said at the beginning of this term, I am a retired Auror. Now how many of you are looking into the job of Auror?"

Remus raised his hand meekly in the air, and Klein snorted. "Mr. Lupin, I am sorry to say that you will never have the requirements. Anyone else?"

Sirius raised his hand and Klein nodded. "Very good, very good. Well, you should pay close attention to my story then. You see, I was in charge of one case in which a dark being had ransacked a town. This thing had bitten a little girl, and the girl was now feeling ill and not herself. Others had been affected by this beast, and I was called in to terminate their problem."

Sirius listened intently, and Klein went back to the chalkboard. "Now, upon entering the woods, I came across a monster. It looked almost exactly like the one in your book. Well, I asked no questions, but disposed of it as quick as I could. I was then put in charge of the Extermination of Dangerous Creatures cabinet in the Auror office, along with Mr. Antonin Dolohov, who is quoted in your text on page 398. In my career, I have terminated thirty-six beasts that called themselves human. Werewolves, ladies and gentlemen, are dangerous creatures, no matter what you may be told otherwise."

The same chair in the back shifted again.

"They may seem quiet, calm, and passive. But remember, every month this," he pointed at the picture on page 397, "is what they become. This is what they are, class. Monsters. Yes, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus lowered his hand and whispered something.

"Speak up, Mr. Lupin. I can't hear you."

"Not all of that is true, sir," Remus said quietly. "My father has done research on werewolves --- they are human beings, sir. They don't-"

"Well, as I said, Mr. Lupin, there are many theories out there," he interrupted as he shut his book, "but there is one truth. I have seen these monsters in their habitat. I have killed them with my own bare hands. I know what they are capable of." He turned back toward the entire class. "People may try to culture them. Domesticate them. Find loopholes in the law. Educate them." He looked at Remus and then glared. "But they are still animals. They are still werewolves. They are still that illustration."

Remus felt tears well up in his eyes. But he couldn't cry. He couldn't let his friends know.

Klein saw his anger and smiled that smile again, "And as for your father, Mr. Lupin, I've heard of his dealings with a Mr. Fenrir Greyback. I wouldn't call him a reliable source, sir."

He then sat down in his chair, crossed his legs, and instructed, "Now please read the chapter, and I want a report tomorrow on the five most dangerous things about these creatures. And Mr. Lupin," he added as Remus went to open his book, "ten for you, for your cheek."

Remus glared, and Peter turned back in his seat to get a look at him. Remus was bright red and looked as if he was on the verge of bawling or strangling Klein. Peter turned back toward his book and began to read.

""""""""

"Happy Christmas, Peter," James said as he and Sirius exited the dormitory room. "Happy Christmas, Remus."

"Happy Christmas," the two of them shouted back, and the boys followed Mr. And Mrs. Potter out of the common room and into the corridor.

"Ah, hello, young Potter," Nearly Headless Nick said, stopping to greet them in the Entrance Hall. "And Sirius, what a surprise. Not staying for the holidays?"

"No, I'm visiting James's house," Sirius said, jumping with excitement. He wanted to get going.

"Ah, well. Have a wonderful time," Nick said, and continued floating down the hall.

"Come, Sirius," Mrs. Potter said, taking Sirius by the shoulders and leading him into the bright sunlight. "We have seats on the next train to London, but first James's father must meet with the headmaster. When we get home, we'll show you around the house, and you can get yourself acquainted with your surroundings before dinner. I've prepared lamb, is that all right with you? Do you like lamb?"

"Sure," Sirius said, at a loss for words, and he followed James and his mum down the stairs and onto the path leading to Hogsmeade. Mr. Potter had taken a left at the main hall and clambered up some stairs towards the great griffin statue.

"You'll have to meet our house elf, Sirius," James said. "Her name is Sprite, and she's about as old as Professor McGonagall. Do you have a house elf?"

"Yeah," Sirius grunted, "his name's Kreacher. He hates me."

"Well, Sprite isn't cranky. She'll love you. She fusses over any sort of company. She loves her job. Dad offered her a mitten once, but she refused it. Of course, she still wears it, but she stays around to help out with the cooking and the cleaning. Hey, Dad, remember when you gave Sprite that old mitten?"

Mr. Potter chuckled to himself and continued walking.

"And you'll meet Uncle Charlie. He's Dad's brother. He's sleeping on the couch since Remus isn't coming. And you'll get the guest room. Mum's been working day and night to get it ready. Isn't that right, Mum?"

"Oh yes, Sirius dear. We are very excited to have you for the holidays. The more the merrier. Now, I must apologize beforehand, the guest room belongs to Wendy, James's elder sister. Well, she hardly comes round anymore. She's very busy in Morocco. But she comes home once in a while, and she likes to see her old room untouched and still the way it was when she left it. So, the walls are a bit pink. I hope you won't mind."

"That's fine," Sirius said, not really listening. He was too excited. He was going to have a real Christmas.

"""""""""""

Remus jumped off the train and immediately saw his parents standing on the platform waiting for him. He smiled and ran to them, arms open wide. His mother grabbed him and swung him back and forth in her lap.

"Oh, darling, you've grown so much," she said, taking a good look at him. "At least an inch."

Remus knew that she was lying. He was still a runt. That's why it didn't bother him that she grabbed him in the middle of a crowd. He looked about eight years old, and so it seemed appropriate.

His father patted him on the back and grabbed his trunk. "So, how was Halloween? Better than you thought?"

"Yes," Remus said. He wasn't lying this time. He smiled at the memory of Sirius bailing him out of trouble.

He had real friends now. And nothing could take that away from him.


	9. Chapter 8: The House of Potter

**CHAPTER 8**

**The House of Potter**

James and his parents stopped the car outside a large house in the midst of London hustle and bustle. It was around the same size as Sirius', yet cheerier. It was white with blue trimmings, with the greenest shrubs that he had ever seen outside the parlor windows. It wasn't an enormous house, but it was large enough. James opened the car door and held it open for Sirius as he ascended onto the sidewalk.

"Usually we use Floo Powder," James said, "but Mum wanted to show off her new bushes. And Dad's proud of his station wagon. Don't ask me why. Muggle transportation always takes so long. And it's very cramped," he added, massaging his shoulder.

Sirius followed James and his parents to the front door, where it opened immediately to a bright shining face with the biggest pair of eyes imaginable. The house elf was donned in a plaid jumper, with one red and worn mitten on her left hand. She squealed when she saw James, and embraced him as soon as he stepped in the door.

"Oh, Master James!" she said, her skinny little arms locking around his legs. "Sprite is so happy to see you!"

"Hello, Sprite," James said, patting her on the back. Then he stood up, looked at Sirius, and mussed his hair again. "This is Sirius Black. My friend from school. He's the one staying in Wendy's old room."

Sprite's eyes grew larger, if it was physically possible, and she latched onto Sirius's neck, weighing him down to a leaning position. "Oh, Master Sirius! Sprite is so glad to meet you for the very first time! It is cause for celebration! It is a happy day that we have company! Could Sprite do anything for Master Sirius? Is Master Sirius hungry? Is Master Sirius thirsty?"

"No, I'm fine," Sirius said, somewhat taken aback. He wasn't used to house elves acting like this. Kreacher was always complaining about something or other, and waiting for the day when he could be added to the collection of elf heads sported on the wall.

"Master and Mistress Potter! Returned from Hogwarts! How was Master and Mistress Potter's journey?" Sprite eagerly took their cloaks and hung them on the coat hanger next to the door. "Long? Tiring? Is Master and Mistress Potter hungry? Is-"

"No, that's quite all right, Sprite," Mr. Potter said, and then he winked at Sirius.

"Come, Sirius, dear," Mrs. Potter said, "I'll show you to your room. That suitcase looks quite heavy."

"Oh, let Sprite carry Master Sirius's suitcase! Mistress Potter wouldn't want to injure herself on the way upstairs! Let Sprite help Mistress Potter!" Sprite took hold of the suitcase and tried to drag it to the foot of the staircase, but it was useless. The suitcase was larger than her.

"Here, I'll take it," James said, and he lifted the suitcase with Sprite still attached to the handle. She wouldn't let go as he carried it up the stairs and into the long corridor.

"That's quite all right, Master James," she squeaked as they entered Sirius's room, "Sprite can manage it."

Sirius followed the two into the room and looked around. Mrs. Potter's description of the room had been an understatement.

Everything from the floor to the ceiling was painted fluorescent pink. Even the frilly pillows and the laced drapes were some shade of pink. Pink everywhere. Sirius blinked.

James blushed, turning the color of the room. "Sorry, Sirius. It was either this or share the couch with Uncle Charlie. And Uncle Charlie isn't a very good roommate."

"Yes, Master Charles makes large noises from his behind during the night, Master Sirius," Sprite offered. "When Sprite least expects it, Master Charles makes a sound louder than a foghorn. It scares Sprite, Master Sirius."

Sirius decided to take the flowering room instead, and James and Sprite called his decision wise.

"Well, dinner's in an hour," James informed Sirius before leaving the room with Sprite at his heels. "Hope to see you downstairs."

Sirius waved after them and then went to unpacking his things.

He wondered what his lovely parents were doing right now. Probably welcoming Aunt Elladora and her three daughters into their filthy house. Narcissa was going back for the holidays, he knew. And Andromeda and Bellatrix must have been joining them. Bellatrix was enough to make his hair stand on end. He hated her and Narcissa. The only cousin he could stand was Andromeda. The two of them usually stayed together for moral support. Sometimes Uncle Alphard would tag along with the two of them, and then take them out to see the sights. He came from the country, and usually didn't get to see London. Regulus, Sirius's younger brother, would sit with Aunt Elladora and let her fawn over him like a little puppy. It made Sirius sick.

He took out his cloaks and set them neatly in the pink closet. The frilly hangers were already half taken up by an assortment of little girl dresses. He rolled his eyes. Girls.

He sat down on the bed and let out a deep breath. He knew the only reason why his parents let him come to the Potters was because they were also purebloods. Oh, and the small fact that he was now in Gryffindor. That wouldn't go over too well with Elladora.

An hour later, the Potters and newly arrived Uncle Charlie, along with Sprite and Sirius, took their places at the table to eat their first meal together. The lamb looked delicious, and Sirius was about to dig in when James kicked him under the table.

"Wait," he whispered.

Sirius looked at him, and then at Mrs. Potter, who was folding her hands. "Let us say Grace," she said.

Sirius blinked. Grace?

He took his cue off of James and the rest of the table, folded his hands, and closed his eyes. Lamb. He could smell it. He could taste it. Why were they bothering with this talk? Why didn't they just get to the food? This was the most boring thing he had done thus far. Not to complain about the Potters' hospitality, but they were old; old and staunchy, like the portrait that hung outside Professor McGonagall's classroom, bowing his head to every passerby, exclaiming how rude it was if they didn't bow back.

"So, Sirius," Mr. Potter piped up after the party had dug into the meal, "Tell us. How was your first semester at Hogwarts?"

"Pretty good," Sirius said, again disappointed that he had to talk instead of eat. "We have a friend at school that got us on the right track."

"Remus, remember, Dad?" James said, looking up from his plate. "The boy with the sick mum?"

"Oh, yes, I remember," Mr. Potter nodded. "Terrible thing to happen to such a young child. I remember when my mother died --- Charlie here was only four."

Charlie grunted as he took his fourth helping of lamb.

"Aren't your parents going to miss you, Sirius?" Mrs. Potter said, daintily picking up her fork.

"I doubt it," Sirius said truthfully, and went to stuffing his face.

"Have you met Madame Darsing yet, James?" Mr. Potter inquired his son, now seeing that Sirius was preoccupied.

"Oh, yeah, she's great! She said that I was a shoe-in third year if I wanted to try out for the Quidditch team," James said. "She's going to give me private lessons when I get back."

"Yeah, he showed us all up the first class," Sirius said, gulping down his food and turning to James. "Remember old Snivelly's face when he saw you flying?"

"No, I don't." James tried to recall that day. All he could remember was the feeling of the wind on his face, and Darsing yelling to him from the ground so far away.

"He looked like he'd just tasted something rotten," Sirius said. "He was clutchin' his broom and biting his lip. He was the last one to sit down."

"Who's Snivelly?" Mrs. Potter inquired.

"He's this greasy haired Slytherin. What's his real name, Sirius? Snape or something?"

"Yeah, I think that's it."

"Yeah, Snape. Severus Snape."

They had laughed and talked all night, and as Sirius sank into the frilly pink bed, he felt more content than he had in his whole life. A large smile formed on his face and he fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 9: Greetings from London

**CHAPTER 9**

**Greetings from London**

Christmas Eve was a joyful ceremony for all at the Potter house. Sirius was free of one more year of the Black's traditional night where Aunt Elladora and his mother would talk into the night over a glass of sherry while Regulus, Narcissa, Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Sirius would all be rounded into a room for the night, and told to go to sleep at seven o' clock so that the adults could talk about important things.

At James's house, they were all together every minute of the day, Mr. and Mrs. Potter never talked down to him. In fact, it seemed as if they had had him late in life and found him the last bit of youth in their world. This sort of odd honor bestowed to James, being the eleven-year-old son of a grey-haired household, seemed to be both a gift and a curse upon the family. He was very polite, and they were very loving. But it also allowed James to be a bit spoiled; something Sirius had never been graced with. Everything in the Black house was dispersed evenly, miserly --- and any sort of spoiling went to Regulus. Yes, Sirius was but one leaf on a family tree that stretched back to at least one if not more of the great Genarva brothers. But James --- James was seen as a miracle child, and while some would have seen this as a stifling bit of arrogance and egotism in the Potter boy's life, Sirius lavished in it and vigorously emulated everything he saw in James's life.

It was that afternoon that James came up with the idea to check on Remus and give him a proper Christmas greeting.

"Maybe we can even see his mum," James said, and ushered his friend over to the fireplace. Mr. and Mrs. Potter both thought the idea could cheer the Lupin family up a great deal, so they supplied the Floo powder for the boys. James and Sirius both stuck their heads into the fireplace and shouted, "Lupin Residence!"

All at once they felt their heads fall in and out of tinsel covered fireplaces, and finally they stopped spinning in a foreign hearth, covered in stockings filled with holes. A tired looking Remus sat in front of the fire, staring sadly into it. He was all alone and looking rather pathetic in his shabby robes. He was looking peaky and pale, and not very well himself. He didn't even notice the two floating heads in his fireplace before James alerted him to the fact.

"Hey, Remus!" he called out, and Remus jumped. He looked horrified instead of happy to see them. He blinked, and then recognized the disembodied faces. He forced a smile.

"Oh, hey, guys," he said, and waved.

"Happy Christmas," James said cheerfully.

"Yeah, Happy Christmas," he replied weakly, then shakily stood up and slowly crossed to the fire.

"Hey, Lupin," Sirius said, "you aren't looking too good. You feeling all right?"

"Yeah," Remus said, "it's my-"

"Remus, who're you talking to?" a female voice said from somewhere out of sight. Remus gasped and called back, "No one! Just --- just give me a second."

"Who was that? Your mum? She sounds better," James said hopefully.

"No, uh --- that was my aunt. She's here to take care of my --- you didn't tell me you were --- well, I've got to get going --- a lot to do before tonight."

"Oh, well, all right," James said. "Happy Christmas, Remus!"

"Happy Christmas, James. Happy Christmas, Sirius."

"Happy Christmas."

And they dispersed.

Sirius was confused more than before. You would have thought that he would have had a little more gratitude He shook his head free of soot and crawled out of the fire.

"Well, how did it go? That was short and sweet," Mr. Potter said, returning the Floo powder to its place on the mantle.

"He was worried and upset about something," James said, getting to his feet. "He's having a rotten Christmas."

"Yeah," Sirius interjected, and then he fell silent.

"""""""

The night flew by very quickly, and Sirius finally found himself in James's room, telling stories and looking through Quidditch magazines. The last thing on Earth that he wanted to do was go back to the pink-walled guest room and wait for morning. They were halfway through The Weekly Snitch when James donned a thoughtful look on his face and smiled. "You know what, Sirius?"

"Hmm?" Sirius asked, turning the page. Ludo Bagman, the starting Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, was balancing on his broom while hitting a bludger to Arlan Blackwell's head.

"Someday, I'm going to be the greatest Quidditch player ever." James stood and went to sit next to the window. He stared at the full moon. "And I'm going to be on the cover of all these magazines. Some day, Sirius. Just you see."

"Someone had a little bit too much butterbeer," Sirius chortled as he turned the page.

"And what do you want to do with you life?" James asked, turning toward him. "You raised your hand in class when Klein asked if anyone wanted to be an Auror. Is that what you're looking at?"

"We're eleven, we've got our whole lives ahead of us!" Sirius said, shaking his head. "I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"You've got to have some idea," he sat on his bed and rested his head on the bedpost.

"I'm just trying to survive Professor McGonagall's exams," Sirius said, and he shut the magazine. "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting all --- sullen?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. I saw Remus's face, and I was thinking --- well, you know, it's going to happen to all of us sometime. Blimey, our parents are going to die! And eventually, we'll die. You know? I mean, I never really thought about it until his mum got all sick --- we aren't here for very long. And it's best to do whatever we can while we're still here --- "

Sirius yawned and stood. "James, it's Christmas Eve. Why are you talking about depressing things? Look around! We have a whole load of presents waiting for us downstairs in the morning! "

James nodded in agreement, and then he rumpled his hair again. "Yeah, I guess. I just can't stop thinking --- what if it was my mum?" He looked at Sirius testily. "Or even your mum?"

"Oh, that would be a loss for the world, I'm sure," Sirius huffed as he sat down next to James. "Look, it bothers me, too. All right? But Remus'll be fine. He wouldn't want you worrying about him tonight. So perk up. You look almost as bad as he did."

James smiled and then looked out the window again. His face fell, and he hit his pillow. "Oh, damn it."

"What?"

"Professor Klein's report. It's due by the end of the holidays. About the werewolf signs, remember?"

"Ah, it'll be a breeze," Sirius said, shrugging it off, and then he got up and walked to the door. "It's late. I'll get going."

"'Night," James yawned and lay back in his own bed.

"'Night," Sirius said before shutting the door behind him.

""""""""

"Master Sirius! Master James! Hurry! Hurry! Look what Sprite did for Master Sirius and Master James!" Sprite was running up and down the hallway, banging on the boys' doors as hard as she could. "It is Christmas! Wake up, Master James! Wake up, Master Sirius! Sprite worked all night! Come see what Sprite did!"

James opened his eyes and blinked. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on. What time had he finally nodded off? One? Two?

Sirius was already eagerly waiting at his door, teeth all showing. "Come on, you slow git! You should see it! Stacked to the ceiling! All over the fireplace! On the couch! You can't see the floor!"

James shot out of bed and followed his eager friend down the stairs and into the living room. Sure enough, there was box upon box, stacked to the ceiling with all sorts of paper and bows. Both of their jaws dropped as they stood, paralyzed, just staring at the beautiful sight. Sprite was behind them, clasping her hands together in delight.

"Oh, does Master James and Master Sirius like what Sprite has done?" she asked, jumping from one leg to another.

"Yes, very much," Sirius said, and he and James dug into the presents.

Sirius hadn't expected any presents from the Potters, but it turned out that half of the gifts were addressed to him. He couldn't believe that they would buy him all of this without asking for anything in return.

He ripped open the first package, and there, laced in golden letters, was a new black satchel with the Gryffindor crest sewn onto the flap. The letters read _Sirius Black_ in fancy handwriting. Sirius smiled and placed the satchel on one of the free chairs. He dug into the next present and found a toy Snitch on a string. He laughed. "Hey, Potter! Look!"

James looked up from his unwrapping and returned the laugh. "That's great!"

"Keep digging, you probably got one, too," Sirius encouraged him, and then he set the Snitch on top of the satchel. He ripped the next present open.

"Oh! Sirius! Look! Look what Dad gave me!"

Sirius jumped to attention and set the wizard's chess board down. But James was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared. He furrowed his brow, and scanned the mounds of gifts.

"James?" he whispered. "Ugh!"

He fell face first into a pointy end of a box. Something had pushed him from behind! He snapped his head around to see James laughing at him. Except all of James wasn't there. It was just his head, floating in midair.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" Sirius exclaimed, and he tugged it off of his friend. James, still laughing, reappeared, and sat down next to Sirius as he examined the newly found gift.

"It was my Dad's, and my grandfather's," James said, crossing his legs. "Dad promised me that he'd give it to me when I was older. And now here it is."

Sirius wrapped his hand in the cloth and joyfully watched as it disappeared from sight. "Bloody hell. That's brilliant!"

"Geroff," James laughed, shoving him out of the way and reclaiming the cloak. "You know, this could come in handy at Hogwarts next semester."

Sirius, getting the gist of what James was saying, felt a smirk slap onto his face. He nodded in agreement. "Oh, yes, it could, couldn't it?"

"Happy Christmas!"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter entered the room, wearing their nightclothes and rubbing their eyes.

"Happy Christmas," the boys said in unison, and Sirius added, "Thank you for the gifts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

Mrs. Potter glowed, and only said, "You're very welcome, Sirius."

"My parents can probably pay you for-"

"That's not necessary, Sirius," Mr. Potter interrupted, waving his hand to hush him up. "Enjoy your gifts."

Sirius's smile grew wider, and he dug into his next gift.

That night, Sprite cooked them a goose dinner, and the six of them sat around the table and stuffed their stomachs until no one could manage another bite. They sang carols, built snowmen, and told Christmas stories by the fire. It was something right out of a book, Sirius thought, as he followed James up the stairs and back to bed.

He still had the taste of goose on his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

""""""""""""

"It's getting worse," the doctor informed Mrs. Lupin outside her son's room. The little boy was lying in a white bed, face cut wide open and arms wrapped in bandages. Mistletoe hung over his head, and the counter where his papers sat was donned with garland. In the corner a small Christmas tree twinkled in the starlight. There was no moon out this night. "We'll be able to patch him up this time, but it was lucky that you opened the door when you did. He may not have made it the entire night."

Mrs. Lupin gasped, and her tears came faster. She stared through the window at her son and shook her head. "There must be another way for him to transform. I would give up my health to stay with him."

"You can't, Mrs. Lupin," the doctor said. "He will bite you. Not only will that mentally affect him, it will affect you. You will be just as him, and not able to help him in any way."

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

"The disease is still unresearched. Partially out of fear and partially out of politics." The doctor rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses and continued on. "There is nothing that we can offer him other than the treatment that we have been giving him, and the chance at a normal lifestyle. This means keeping up with his schoolwork, support from you and your husband, and of course, his social life. Has he made any friends?"

"He was speaking about a couple boys that he had gotten to know," Mrs. Lupin offered, "and he's a very smart boy. Top marks this last term."

"Good, good," the doctor said, "that is all we can give him, then. A shot at a future."

Remus couldn't stop looking at the tree. St. Mungo's had furnished it for him. The nurse who had set it there had cheerily told him that next year, there was no full moon on Christmas or Christmas Eve. Maybe next year he could visit James's house with Sirius. Maybe he could be normal for a change ---

Bah. Normal. That was a laugh.

He saw his mother and the doctor talking outside of his room. He sniffed. They wouldn't be able to do anything that they hadn't done before. His face ached. It had been close last night. Too close.


	11. Chapter 10: Remus's Mistake

**CHAPTER 10**

**Remus's Mistake**

The holidays were slowly drawing to a close, and Sirius and James found that their pile of homework was growing more intimidating in the corner with every passing hour. They had a potions assignment as well as the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay about werewolves.

"I can't believe it. Twenty-two pages to read out of the Potions book. Twenty-two!" Sirius sighed and plunged into the first book that Slughorn had assigned them. "I have a bad feeling about Slughorn and homework. He's worse than Professor McGonagall!"

"Well, at least we have Darsing to look forward to," James said hopefully, and started to write. "All right, let's start on the essay."

Sirius sighed again and picked up his quill, ready to begin the painful procedure.

"_The adriaks and wolfsbane put together will make a love potion_," James wrote down, squinting his eyes at the parchment. "_The wolfsbane has hormonal triggers in it, and_-"

"Can I copy that down?" Sirius interrupted.

"Go ahead. _And adriaks have a mind controlling power. One sip of this and you are under a person's command. These two make an incurable love potion. The first thing that the drinker sees, he or she will fall in love with instantly._ There. Now onto the lilas and Veela hairs --- lilas and Veela hairs make --- Polyjuice Potion, doesn't it?"

"I have no clue. You're the one writing this." Sirius pushed the Potions book aside and picked up Klein's book. "I'm going to do the Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment, all right? You can copy it. It can't be that hard."

"Deal," James said, sucking on the end of his quill.

Sirius opened the book to page 394, and came, once again, face to face with the monster. He shuddered and turned it to page 395.

He read the passage under the picture: _Signs of Werewolves_.

_The werewolf is an easy creature to spot. The hard and difficult task is recognizing them in their human form. They are usually absent for long periods of time, mostly around the time of the full moon. An astrological chart can be found on page 216. Their noses are different than the true wolf, and their tail is tuft at the end. Also, their pupils of their eyes are very distinguishable from the surrounding part of the iris. _

Sirius wrote his name at the top of the paper, and then began to write. _1. Noses are different than true wolf. 2. Tail is tuft at the end. 3. Pupils of their eyes are distinguishable. 4. Absent for long periods-_

He paused and looked back at the book. Absent for long periods of time --- why did that sound familiar? He gave a chuckle and shook his head. Nah, it couldn't be.

_The werewolf's howl is also very distinguishable from the normal and average howl of a wolf. It has the same tonal qualities as of the person._

_5. Howl sounds like person's voice._ He was done. Sirius shut the book and handed James his paper.

"You done with our essay?" he asked, standing up to stretch his legs.

"Almost," James said, biting his tongue between his teeth. A few seconds later he said, "There. Finished. Have a go at it. And change some of the words, it can't be exactly the same."

"Thanks." Sirius snatched the parchment and went to copying it down. But his mind was still racing. What if --- by some off chance --- that ---

He shook his head again and went back to his studies.

""""""""""

The Sunday the students returned was bittersweet. Everyone was very excited to be back with their friends and reunited, but they still had the lights of the Christmas tree dancing in their eyes, and they wished to return home as soon as possible.

Remus was already in the dormitory room, unpacking his things for the second time, when James and Sirius arrived. They were still talking excitedly about their adventures at the Potter house when they spotted him digging through his belongings.

"Hey, Lupin," Sirius said as he dragged his own trunk over to his bed to reclaim it, "how was your holiday?"

"Don't ask," Remus snapped, and he quietly sat down in his bed.

James walked over and sat down next to him. "Something you'd like to talk about, mate?"

Remus shook his head and turned away from James. "I appreciated you two visiting me on Christmas Eve. That was very --- nice --- of you."

"No problem," Sirius said as he opened his trunk. "How's your mum?"

"Worse," Remus said, and he stood, trying to escape James's stare. "I don't think she's going to make it any longer."

"What exactly's wrong with her, anyway?" James asked cold-heartedly as he pulled his robes out one by one.

Remus didn't answer, and James felt a pang of guilt well up inside of him.

"Hello, everyone," Peter said, entering the room. "How were your holidays?"

"Fine." James gave Remus one more sympathetic look, and then got up from his bed and headed for his own.

"""""""

The end of January was coming fast, and Remus knew what awaited him. The Whomping Willow, the long dark tunnel, the shack on the hill. His nightmares started to become even more vivid now, and he found himself tossing and turning, mumbling and groaning.

He had just had a very real dream, in which he was running down the tunnel, being chased by Snorks. His head had been the moon, and behind him were the floating heads of James and Sirius, wide eyed, watching every move he made.

"How was your Christmas, Remus?" they asked in a zombie-like voice.

Remus had woken up in a sweat, and he hadn't been able to fall back asleep the entire night.

Finally, Professor McGonagall stopped him in the halls the day before the full moon and reminded him to be ready at four the following evening. He had obediently agreed, and now he was faced with the monthly terror only a few hours away.

"Hey, Lupin!"

Remus shot around on his heels to come eye to eye with James Potter. He tried to act friendly, but he just really wanted to be alone.

"Hey, what's up, mate?" James said, joining him on his walk to Herbology.

"Nothing much. And you?" Remus returned the gesture.

"Nothing really." James stopped, and Remus doubled round to see what was the matter. "Look, Remus --- I wanted to apologize for asking about your mum. And --- being sort of insensitive and all."

"Who set you up to this?"

"No one," James scoffed. "I do have a conscience, whatever you may think otherwise. Thank you very much. And I felt bad about making you all --- well, you know. Sorry. Truce?"

He held out his hand, and Remus smiled. "Sure," he said, and he shook with James.

"Oh, and you do know that if something was bothering you, you could tell me or the guys, right?" James's eyes were hopeful. This wasn't like him at all. Since when was he into "sharing" his feelings and discussing things?

"Yeah, of course," Remus said, very confused. The two of them continued walking to class, and Remus felt the stone drop back into his stomach.

"""""""""

"Checkmate," James said as Peter's face grew red. He had won for the fourth time in a row, and Remus and Sirius were growing quite tired of Peter's insisting on rematches.

"Let it go this time, Pete," Sirius yawned, and he sprawled back in his chair. "He's got you beat every time. You aren't ever going to be as good as James." 

This just made Peter's face go to a dark purple.

"Hey, Lupin, you want to have a go against me?" Sirius offered, jumping off of the chair and pushing Peter out of the way. "Have you ever played before?"

Remus looked at the clock in the common room. It was four o' clock. Snorks would be coming any minute. He should just wait by the door and-

"Remus, you going to play or not?" James asked, standing up and offering him his spot on the carpet.

It wouldn't take that long. And he hadn't played for ages. He should let himself have a little fun before diving back into the nightmare. He shrugged. "All right."

Soon Sirius had beaten Remus very badly. Snorks still hadn't come. Remus had been listening for the cry of the Fat Lady all through the game. Nothing.

"Up for another?" Sirius asked, rubbing his knuckles on his shirt sleeve.

"Sure," Remus said, and instructed the white pawn to move forward two squares.

It was six o' clock when the boys finally put the chess game away and made their way into the dormitory room. It was then, just as Remus took a step up the staircase, that the Fat Lady finally uttered a scream.

"Oh my word!" she shouted. "Not you again, you fiend!"

Snorks was finally here. Two hours late. Remus didn't care, though. He couldn't get in here. Only Professor McGonagall had the password, and she was on the other side of the school. He wasn't going like a good little boy this time. He was going to wade it through. He was going to ignore it. He would fight his own monsters, and he would ignore him. It was the only way.

"Remus?" Snorks's voice was muffled behind the Fat Lady.

"Sir! Get your hands off of me!"

"Let me in, you old broad," Snorks demanded.

"Ah! My word!"

"Aren't you going to see your mum?" James asked, curiously looking back at the entrance.

"No," Remus said forcefully. "No, she'll be fine."

It was another hour until Snorks finally gave up and sought out Professor McGonagall for the password. By that time Remus was locked away in his room, dreaming of wizard chess with Peter's purple face on top of the pieces.

He woke around nine, to find himself perfectly normal. The moon was up and out, the sky was gleaming with stars, and there was no trace of anything different with Remus. He had found the solution. Ignorance! He had found the answers to his problems. Dumbledore, the doctor, his parents, they had all been wrong! He was perfectly safe in his own bed.

From downstairs, he heard the argument between Professor McGonagall and the Fat Lady, who felt as if she had been harassed and abused.

"I said _dragon dung_, you old bat!" Professor McGonagall snapped.

"Sadly, the password has been changed."

"You can't change the password. Only the Head of the House can! And that is me. And I order you to let me in!"

"No, you obviously don't know the password, so how could you be the Head of the House?"

"Because you changed it!"

"A password is a password."

Remus smiled to himself. They would be there all night, trying to get in. In the morning, he would come out well rested, and unscathed. It would be a miracle! For he, Remus Lupin, had found the cure to his curse. 

It was nine o' clock when Remus checked his clock again. Professor McGonagall was still at it, and he was still Remus. The moonlight was starting to peak in his window, now. It had moved out of sight, and now had appeared in the pane next to his bed. The hairs on the back of his neck twitched.

9:05. The sunset had swept across the little space between the window and his blankets, and it was now creeping farther from his body, inch by inch. Remus braced himself. His muscles were already convulsing, or was it just that he was shivering?

His graying hair stood on end.

9:06. Professor McGonagall and the Fat Lady were still shouting at each other.

All of a sudden, it hit him. Like a wave of cold ice, Remus's eyes grew wide and his body grew limp. He tried to stop from screaming. It wasn't a miracle! It wasn't gone! _He_ was still here! _He_ was still alive! Ignorance couldn't kill _him_!

"James," Remus whispered, trying to keep control of his voice. His mind was falling, falling into the darkness again. The hair on top of his head began to crawl down his back, and his tailbone was lengthening. He felt a growl echo in his throat.

"No," he wailed, "no, no, _no!_ I'm not --- a --- monster --- I'm not a-"

The room was vanishing. He saw the forest again. The forest that he had visited so many times. That man that had hidden along the trees was now a dog. No, not a dog --- a wolf. He was a wolf! A large, savage wolf! His father had warned him! He --- He lunged at Remus! He bit him! He-

Remus howled and thrashed in his bed. The moonlight was caressing him. Laughing at him.

"Remus?" a tired James said from across the room.

"HELP ME! MUUUM!" he cried, trying to hold onto his voice.

"What's going on?" Sirius snapped to attention, and Remus could hear Peter awaken as well.

"Could someone shut that lout up?" Darryl groaned from behind his eye mask.

"Wake up!" James said, throwing a pillow at him. "Come on, Remus. It's just a dream."

If only it were that easy. If only it were true.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO-"

"Peter, go get Professor McGonagall." James's voice was becoming faint.

Peter nodded, and ran out of the door. He was back in seconds with a flustered looking professor, and he pointed at Remus, who was convulsing harder than ever.

The pain! The pain! God, someone stop the pain! Let him die!

"AAAAAHHH!" he screamed again.

"Everyone out," Professor McGonagall ordered in a demanding tone. The four remaining boys ran out of the room, and into the hallway. "Potter, go get Dumbledore and tell him to meet us in the infirmary."

The door slammed behind the professor, and she was now alone with Remus, who was still twitching. He could slow it down. He could slow the process down. He had to try.

Blood. He could smell it.

It was his own!

"Mr. Lupin, are you still here?" Professor McGonagall's voice said, quivering with fright.

"DON'T TAKE ME!" Remus screamed. "DON'T TAKE ME! I FOUND A CURE! IF I JUST-"

"Mr. Lupin, listen to my voice. Listen to me, all right? Can you do that? Can you still understand me?"

Remus replied in a half-scream, half-howl. The fur was growing. The fangs were appearing. The claws were already in place. Remus rolled off of his bed, and he could see the dorm room. Everything was perfectly laid out in front of him. It was day again, almost. But oh, no. The wolf reigned at night. Only night.

"Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall repeated.

The wolf stopped. Remus looked at Professor McGonagall. That's who it was. It was his teacher. He was a student here at Hogwarts. He hadn't let Snorks in --- but who was Snorks ---?

"Help me!" he wailed, and fell down to the floor. Blood.

"We have to get you down to the infirmary." Professor McGonagall's voice. Yes, it was the professor. He was sure of it. But what was a ---

He lunged at her, and she was thrown back in a mix of amazement and terror. He set his fangs to bite in, but she took out her wand and pointed it between the wolf's eyes.

"_Stupefy_!" she screamed in horror.

The wolf was paralyzed. _He_ and Remus dropped to the ground, and Remus was forgotten yet again.

""""""""""""

Sirius, James, Peter, and Darryl ended up camping out on the sofas. They were asleep when Professor McGonagall, along with Professor Snorks and Madame Pomfrey, whisked Remus out of his dormitory room and through the Fat Lady's portrait. Sirius couldn't remember his dream vividly, but he could see that illustration on page 394 in his mind when he woke up the next morning.

"Where are you going?" James yawned. "It's a Saturday."

"To the hospital wing," Sirius said, putting on his shoes. "To see Remus."

But the answer Sirius wanted did not come at the entrance of the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, he's not seeing any visitors today."

James seemed indignant. "Why? What happened? Is he okay?"

Madame Pomfrey, blocking the entranceway with her body, shook her head. "I told you, no visitors. Now go off. It's Saturday. Have fun. Build a snowman, get into trouble. Go. He'll be back as good as new on Monday. Get! Get!"

And with that, she shoved Sirius and James back into the hallway. From behind them, they could hear screaming.

"""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was lying in a white bed. He could tell now. He had just woken from a vivid dream. It was one where he was in his dormitory, and he had transformed in front of everyone. Professor McGonagall had come --- 

He blinked. Professor McGonagall was sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed, her hair in a tussle and bags under her eyes. He had never seen her so frazzled in the seven months he had been at Hogwarts. Over his bed stood Headmaster Dumbledore, wearing a grim expression on his face.

"Sir, what happened?" Remus asked stupidly.

Professor McGonagall let out a sob, and she started to cry into her emerald green cloak.

"Mister Lupin," Dumbledore said, sitting in the vacant chair next to the head of the bed, "do you recall anything from last night?"

Remus blinked again, and everything came in clearer. It hadn't been a dream. It had been real. He stared at Professor McGonagall, who wouldn't look at him. She was still sobbing into her gown.

"Faintly," he said, very distant and very ashamed. He had attacked a teacher.

"You transformed in your dormitory. You wouldn't let Snorks in to fetch you. When someone finally did let us in, it was too late. Do you know the dangers that you put upon not only yourself, but on others as well?"

"I'm sorry," Remus said, and sat up. "I'll go pack my bags."

"Now wait a minute, Mister Lupin," Professor McGonagall collected herself for a moment, and wiped her eyes on her hem. "You are not going anywhere."

"What?" Remus asked, looking at her, "But I-"

"You made a mistake," Professor McGonagall said, standing to her feet and gaining strength every minute, "and don't interrupt, Albus." Dumbledore was also rising to his feet. "I forgive him for anything he may have done. The children were smart enough to vacate the room. Nothing happened. Nothing will happen. As long as Mister Lupin continues to use the tunnels and the shack, there is no reason that we should expel him for one small incident."

Remus looked hopefully at Dumbledore, who had that glint back in his eye. Dumbledore smiled. "I agree wholeheartedly with you, Minerva." He turned to Remus. "Now, Remus, this is a warning. You will let Snorks in promptly at four o' clock every month, and you will proceed with our plan. Do not, under any circumstances, be in any human contact when you transform. If you do so, you will be expelled."

"I understand," Remus said, and Dumbledore smiled again before turning away from him. "Wait, Headmaster," Remus continued, and Dumbledore faced him again, "I just remembered something. Snorks --- he was two hours late. I had been waiting for him --- he didn't show up until six o' clock."

The old wizard's face fell, and he frowned. "Well, I will have to speak to him as well, won't I?" he said, and then he exited. Professor McGonagall was still sitting there, staring at Remus. Remus felt a wave of guilt rush over him.

"Professor, I'm really sorry-"

"Don't apologize, Mister Lupin," she said, and stood again to follow Dumbledore out of the room. "You had no control over the wolf. That was obvious. I said that I forgave you."

She took her leave, and Remus shouted to her back, "I know you said that, but --- do you really?"

Professor McGonagall stopped in her tracks, and without turning to look at him, replied, "Yes, I forgive you."

"Do you forgive the wolf?"

There was another pause, and then a long sigh. "Show me that he can change, and someday I may forgive him as well."

And then she was gone, leaving Remus to his thoughts.


	12. Chapter 11: Using the Cloak

**CHAPTER 11**

**Using the Cloak**

The second term went a lot faster than the first. January turned to February, which turned to March, and finally dove through April and May and slid into June. The four friends were becoming closer and closer every day. James and Sirius had caught up with their homework and no longer needed Remus's help. Yet, they always sat in front of the fire, talking about what to do the next day and pointing out pretty girls from afar. Peter still had his rat by his side every time anyone saw him, and Remus still left every month to see his mother. Sirius was growing in suspicions, though. After what had happened at the end of January, he was sure that it wasn't his mother that Remus left for.

Their friend had explained to his roommates that he'd had a bad dream, and then fainted. This still didn't explain the fear in Professor McGonagall's eyes that night, nor the claw marks that James found on his bed frame the next morning. But Sirius was sure that if the teachers thought that Remus was dangerous, they wouldn't have admitted him back into the dormitories. All of his doubts and thoughts were washed away by the continuing support that the staff gave Remus.

Sirius and James had begun to make a name for themselves, that was for sure. The Halloween prank was only the beginning. Of course, since the prank, they had never been caught, and there was never any evidence against them to get them in loads of trouble. Yet everyone knew who had done it, and the two boys could walk with their heads a little higher that summer.

Remus was still the gray-haired bookworm that followed them around, even if Sirius and James never talked down to him or poked fun at him. Actually, they were the best two friends that he had ever had and ever would have. It was Peter who worshipped these two gods, and would offer to carry their bags for them and hold doors open for them. The chubby faced boy had no name in the student body, except for "that one tubby kid who follows James Potter around," but that was enough for him. At least he had some sort of a name.

James and Sirius had shown their two friends the Invisibility Cloak in February, and Remus had laughed.

"Well, this explains a lot," he said. There always seemed to be noises at night, opening the door, bumping into the trunks, jumping on the beds. He had thought the disturbances were being caused by Peeves. But alas, it had just been Sirius and James trying to fit both of them under the cloak.

"Come with us, tonight," James offered to Remus, and held out the cloak for him to try on. Remus felt a wave of excitement and nodded. They decided that they would attempt to fit all four of them inside that night in their room. Darryl was always asleep like a baby, and so they wouldn't bother him.

The night finally came, and James shook Remus awake. Remus started and then smiled. "Is it time?"

"Yeah." James held out the cloak, and then nodded over to Sirius and Peter, who were already preparing to squeeze under it.

Sirius, being the tallest, stood in the back. James, being the second tallest, stood next to Sirius, and finally the shorter two filed together in front. Peter and Remus were the same height, but Peter's fat compensated for Remus's lack thereof, and they happily discovered that with a little readjusting, they all four could fit under the cloak. The possibilities were endless now, and they all went to sleep very content.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The exams were nearing now, and Remus could be found studying almost every minute of the day. Sirius and James, on the other hand, proclaimed that they already knew all of it, and would refuse to open a book. Peter had all of a sudden gone from crawling after James to crawling after Remus and his books and study habits. The two of them could be found in the library almost every day, studying their eyes out.

Remus had to take a break from his studies to transform, spend a day in the hospital wing, and then make up another sob story to tell his friends. The transformations were still getting worse. There was nothing that anyone could do for him, and he knew that if he didn't go down into the Shack, he would be expelled.

Another familiar face at the library was good old Snivellus. His long hair usually hung in front of his face, and his nose was the only thing that was visible from the black strands covering his eyes and cheeks. He had note upon note from Professor Klein to give to the librarian, Madam Pince. He would then find his way to the Restricted Section, take a black and beaten book from the shelf, and find a seat somewhere by a vacant table. He then would lean into the book, so that his hooked nose was almost touching the page, and engulf whatever the reading was. Peter would sometimes look up from Remus's studying, and stare at him.

"He's sort of --- dark, isn't he?" he said once to Remus.

Remus looked toward the lone Slytherin two tables away. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "He looks sort of lonely."

"Think we should go sit with him?"

"What?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno --- well, he seems to be getting top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Remus sighed, shut his books, and headed off for the vacant table. Snape didn't acknowledge them when they confronted him, and he didn't show any signs of knowing they were there until Remus cleared his throat.

"Um, mind if we sit with you? We're studying, too."

The hooked nose dove back from the book, and he covered the page with his hands. He looked up at Remus and Peter, and blinked.

"I'm sort of busy."

"Oh, okay, then," Peter said, starting to walk away. But Remus grabbed him by his collar and dragged him back to stand beside him.

"Well, we were wondering if we could study with you," he continued on, "since you have access to the Restricted Section, and we don't. We're sort of behind in Professor Klein's class."

Snivellus raised his eyebrow. "You're that Potter boy's friends, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but we have names," Remus said, pointing to himself. "I'm Remus Lupin, and this is Peter Pet-"

"Nice to meet you," the boy said, sounding not very nice at all. "I'm Snivellus."

Remus stopped. He must have overheard him in the corridors one day. Peter wasn't surprised by this comment at all, and nodded. Remus shook his head at Peter, and Peter came to a halt.

"Look, I-"

"I have studying to do," Snivellus said, and he went back to his book. "Now if you can just leave, I would appreciate it."

There was a pregnant pause, then Remus said very quietly, "I've never called you by that name."

"Well, you've never stopped anyone else from saying it, have you?" Snape shot back, and dug his nose in deeper to the book. Remus, taken aback by this retort, went back to his own work.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

That night, Remus was woken again by James's disembodied voice.

"Hurry up, Lupin. We're all already in here. Get up!"

Remus rubbed his eyes, and stood up. He felt a cloak wrap around him, and all of a sudden, James, Sirius, and Peter came into view.

"Now, where do we go tonight?" James asked his friends.

"The kitchen," Sirius said, "I heard that Slughorn has his own cupboard full of sweets for midnight snacks."

"Nah, let's go down to the Quidditch pitch and practice."

"With all four of us on a broom?" Sirius retorted. "Oh, that would be interesting. I guess we could tie Lupin to the front and use Peter as an anchor."

Peter blushed red.

"How about the Whomping Willow?" James said. "Davey Gudgeon reckons he's found out how to keep it from attacking --- there's a little knot at the bottom that you-"

"That's stupid," Remus said. "No, let's not go outside. It's cold tonight."

"How about --- how about the Slytherin common room?" Sirius offered.

"Oh, yeah, sure," James said. "Because we all know the Slytherin password."

"We could wait for someone to come along who does have the password."

"No, no, no-"

"Third floor corridor?"

"No."

"Well, come on now," Sirius huffed, "Figure it out, James, because it's getting hot and cramped under this thing."

"Let me think ---" James pondered for a moment, and then said, "You guys just want to wander around for a while? Explore? Maybe we'll see something cool on the way."

"Sure, whatever," Remus said, just glad to be moving. Sirius grunted a yes, and Peter nodded.

"All right, here we go." James took a step, and landed on Remus's foot.

"Ow!"

"Shh!" Sirius hissed.

"Sorry," James apologized, and then he sighed. "Okay, this is going to be harder than we thought. All together now, put your right foot forward. One, two, three-"

"OW!" Sirius howled.

"Right foot, Peter! Right foot!" James hissed.

"Oh, sorry."

"Now all together, one, two, three ---"

They took a step forward, and they all let out a deep breath.

"Good, good," James instructed, "Now, left foot. One, two, three ---"

Another step forward.

"All right ---" James looked to the door. It seemed so far away. They had only taken two steps. How were they supposed to explore the castle at this pace? It would be the end of the term before they reached the Fat Lady.

"There's got to be a faster way," he said, looking at his three friends for inspiration.

"What if Peter and Remus got on our shoulders?" Sirius suggested.

"The cloak isn't long enough to cover us that way," James said, "not to mention that I don't think we'd get that far that way either."

"Well, we could just carry Remus. Neither one of us would be able to support Peter."

"Shut up," Peter whined.

"Hey, don't you tell me to shut up, you little rat."

"Guys, stop," James snapped, and then he looked down at Remus's head. "Any ideas, Lupin?"

"Erm --- well, we could just spread out a bit, and take shuffles-"

"Oh, come on," Sirius said, "just start walking. Go, get going, fatty." He pushed Peter, and Peter lunged forward. Remus ran to catch up with him, and the two boys in the back supporting the cloak, followed. Soon, they were at the door, and Remus's hand was on the knob.

"Well, that wasn't very difficult, now was it?" Sirius said, raising a brow at James.

Out in the corridors, there was hardly any light. The torches were burning brightly, but the sounds of the students and scurrying feet were gone, making the halls very intimidating. 

"I don't like this," Peter interjected as they turned a corner into darkness, "I don't like this at all."

"Oh, quit your whining," Sirius said.

"Shut up, both of you," James said as they walked up a flight of stairs. "Does anyone know where we are?"

"I think we're heading toward that dead end." Sirius pointed to a long corridor ahead of them. "You know, the one that we saw when we went exploring after Christmas?"

"Oh, yeah --- right."

"This isn't a dead end up here," Peter piped up.

"Huh?"

"I saw a room on that wall, right there," Peter said, "when I was trying to find Wormtail one day, I was pacing up and down the hall, looking for him, when all of a sudden, I saw a door . I think it was right there --- and there was a squeak behind it. I opened it up, and it was a small closet with a cage. And Wormtail was inside it-"

"Oh, geroff," Sirius said, touching the wall. "There's nothing there."

"Must have been a different corridor," Remus said. "They all look the same."

"No, it was this one --- look! There's the painting. It was right there ---" he pointed at a brick wall. No door was there.

"Let's just turn around," James advised, and they all went back down the staircase.

"Where else can we go?" Sirius asked.

"I dunno," James said, "guess we could try to sneak a look at the exams."

"No," Remus hissed.

"What?"

"No, no --- we'll get expelled."

"The challenge is what makes it interesting," James said, and he lurched forward towards the closest door. Remus pushed him back and said, stronger now, "No. No, we can't get in trouble."

"Fine, whatever," James said, and the four friends continued down the corridor.

"Shh, did you hear that?" Sirius said, stopping suddenly.

The other three came to a halt and listened intently. Footsteps echoed through the corridor to their right. Two pairs.

"Someone's coming!" Peter squealed.

"Do you think it's Filch?" Sirius asked James, his voice amused.

"No, Filch walks slower. Sounds like a student and a teacher." James examined the beat of the approaching steps. "Yeah, definitely."

They all backed up against the wall as Professor Klein and a smaller figure came into view. They stopped outside of Klein's office, and Klein hesitated to take out his keys and open the door. The smaller figure turned sideways, and Remus gasped. There was no question about it. He could recognize that profile from anywhere.

James seemed to recognize it as well, because he whispered, "It's Snivellus!"

Snape was indeed following Professor Klein into the office.

"Come on!" James ushered them quickly through the corridor and through the door just as it shut behind them. They stood in the corner, watching the scene play out before them. Snape had taken a seat in a black chair, and Klein was lighting a candle on his desk. He then sat down opposite Snape, and folded his hands.

"I wanted to talk to you in private, Severus," he said, "because I thought that the other teachers may try to interfere in what I'm about to say to you."

"Why is that, Professor?" his low, drawling voice asked.

"Well," Klein looked around, as if looking to see if anyone was listening, and he drew in nearer. "Some of the staff here believes that the only magic is that which they can control and are not afraid of. I have seen your performance in class, and you have advanced more than any of the other students that I teach. You have been enjoying the Restricted Section, no doubt?"

"Yes, Professor."

"I know that you are still very young. But I have received word from a colleague of mine that has asked me to join him in a common cause. And I invite you --- not now, no --- you are still very young and have much to learn --- but if you would like to someday join us, I have an opportunity for a job for you when you leave Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I am leaving after this year to help my colleague. If you are still interested at the end of your seventh year, I will return and give you all of the information that you need to join us. Until then, I must ask you to keep your studies going. And be careful of the riffraff at this school that can lead you astray."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I will be keeping in touch, Severus. You have been an excellent student."

They shook hands, and then they extinguished the candle. The four friends under the cloak followed them out unseen. After hearing the conversation, they decided it was best if they cut their adventure short and went back to bed. Inside their room, James lay in bed thinking. He now had a reason for hating Severus Snape.


	13. Chapter 12: Return to King's Cross

**CHAPTER 12**

**Return to King's Cross**

The exams took place the week before the end of term. First came Professor Flitwick's, where they were expected to charm their partners with various spells. James and Sirius paired up, and both of them did so well that James walked away from the exams spilling his whole life story to anyone who would listen, while Sirius's hands couldn't stop compulsively clapping. Remus and Peter paired up, and Remus put a tickling charm on his partner.

"Very good, very good, Remus," Flitwick squeaked from on top of his books. "Very good indeed. Now, your turn, Mr. Pettigrew."

Peter took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at Remus, "_Rictickempra!"_

A large tick the size of a walnut appeared attached to Remus's face. He screamed, and Flitwick jumped off of his books, pointed his own wand at the large insect, and the tick flew off of Remus's face and onto the ground, where Remus squashed it into the stone.

"Now, Mr. Pettigrew. It is _rictusempra_, not _rictickempra_." 

Peter turned purple.

The next exams were Professor McGonagall's, where they were to turn a mouse into a snuffbox. Points were docked if the box had whiskers, and points were given for how decorative the engravings were.

James's snuffbox was engraved with a woodsy scene, including a beautiful stag on the top, staring at him from the metal. Professor McGonagall was very pleased, and asked Sirius to show her his. Sirius's was in color, black and red, with fire pouring around a dragon that looked very vicious. The two boys received top marks.

Remus's ended up with one whisker to the side, but he plucked it off before Professor McGonagall inspected it. On the lid was a beautiful full moon. Professor McGonagall's lip curved into a small smile as she inspected it, and then said, "Very nice, Mr. Lupin. Very nice."

Peter was the last of the friends to be inspected. His was still squeaking and had four little legs dangling from the lid as the professor held it up.

"Mr. Pettigrew, is it a snuffbox or a mouse? I can't tell. Choose one and call me back when it's one or the other."

Peter's face turned blue.

They quickly skived through Herbology (James doing not so well, and Remus receiving full marks), Potions (they all passed with flying colors, except for Peter, of course, who melted the cauldron and made his cure for love explode in an amazing display of fireworks), flying (James received a two hundred percent from Darsing), and lastly, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Remus had studied all month for this last test. It was written, and Remus found himself smiling when he saw that a good fourth of the exam was about werewolves. He hurried his way through the questions, but had to pause for the grindylow section.

Sirius was done first, of course. Followed by James, who despised the subject. Finally, Peter put his pencil down, thirty seconds after Klein had asked them to pass in the tests. It was an odd occurrence that half of his answers were the same as Marcus Chillers, the boy sitting next to him.

That afternoon they all four went to sit by the lake, and James and Sirius talked excitedly about how they had aced the tests without any studying whatsoever. Remus was looking over the papers, circling the questions that he hadn't been too sure on, counting them up, and finding the percentages. He finally came to the conclusion that he had passed all of them, with at least an Excellent. He was offering to help Peter conclude his grades when Peter held his stomach and declared that he was going up to the hospital wing because he thought he was going to be sick.

"Geroff, Pete," Sirius said, putting his hands behind his head. "You'll pass. If Darryl can pass, you can pass."

"Hey, did you hear about Darryl, by the way?" James asked, mussing his hair.

"No, I didn't."

"He's requested that he doesn't share a room with us next year," James laughed, and Remus looked up from his papers.

"Why?" he asked.

"He says, and this isn't a direct quote, mind you, it came from Darsing --- but he says that he is always being outdone because this crazy loon," he jotted his finger at Remus, "keeps trying to show off with his brains, and this punkish git," he pointed at Sirius, "makes regular threats to do the Bat Bogey hex on him. And the punkish git's friend who thinks he's something special," he proudly pointed at himself, "won't stop bragging about how's he's going to play Quidditch. And who can forget their little friend with the odd obsession with the rat?" He did not need to point at Peter for them to know who he was talking about. "He said that he heard noises at night, and that he thinks that we're up to something. After that Halloween prank, he's been breathing down our backs, supposedly. And he just can't take that responsibility of watching us anymore."

"So, are they going to let him move out?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"Nah," James said. "They say that the only way he can get rid of us is for him to back his bags and go to Beauxbatons. And what are the chances of that happening? It looks like we're stuck with him until graduation."

Sirius groaned and lay back on the ground. Remus nodded his head as if he thought it was for the best, and then went back to tallying up his Potions score for the third time.

The end-of-term feast took place the day before their departure. They had received their scores from the exams, and Remus had miraculously been exact on his estimations. He had received all good marks, except for two Excellents in Defense Against the Dark Arts (which he couldn't explain), and Transfiguration (which, also, he couldn't explain). He had decided to confront at least Professor Klein about his grade before the feast. He found the professor leaning over his bag, packing to leave. 

"Erm --- Professor Klein?"

Klein looked up to see him standing there and glared. "Oh, Mr. Lupin. What do you want? I'm very busy."

"I just wanted to ask you about my grade on the exam --- it wasn't what I expected, but I knew all of the answers except for three of them. Those were on the grindylows. I added it up in my head and it should have been an Outstanding."

Klein scoffed. "Are you telling me that I am wrong and you are right?"

"Well, not exactly, Professor," Remus said, wringing his hands together. He hadn't done that habit for a while. "I --- well --- I just think that you may have miscalculated. Can I look at the answers quickly? Just to see what I missed at least?"

"They're already packed away. And if you expect me to go digging through all of my things to find one piece of parchment for you, you are more self- indulged than I thought." Klein smirked and went back to packing.

It was the only suitcase he had.

"Well, can you remember what I did wrong?" Remus prodded. "I would like to learn from my mistakes."

"What will it matter? So you can get good marks next year?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like to improve myself."

"There's no possible means of doing that, Mr. Lupin," Klein spat, "No matter how much they try to --- educate --- you, you will always be what you are. There's no changing that."

There was a pause, then Remus said quietly, "I disagree with that, sir."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Klein said, becoming very bored with the conversation. "Well, fine, then. I remember very clearly that you missed most of the questions on the grindylows, not just three by any means --- and there were a few on the werewolf section-"

"You're joking," Remus interrupted.

"No, I am not joking, Mr. Lupin," Klein said as he shut his suitcase. "You must have been dozing off during our discussion last term."

"I think that I would have gotten those right, Professor Klein. They were pretty easy, compared to-"

"Are you calling my class easy?"

"No, sir."

"Leave, Mr. Lupin."

"But-"

"Now, Mr. Lupin."

Remus sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and trotted out of the room.

Lily Evans girl was walking in his direction, her own exam results in hand. He stopped, dumbfounded, and she gave him a bit of a look with those sharp green eyes before he attempted to cover his hesitation with a shake of his head.

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," he warned, his voice sounding brasher than he meant. Why wasn't he being able to feel his feet?

She stopped and stared at him, seeing his cheeks become peaky. "And why not?"

"Well, because I just tried, and I didn't get anywhere with it," he said. "You can go ahead if you want to. I've got him all warmed up for you. He'll love another person asking him to change their grade."

Remus began to walk away, and she looked from him to the door back to him.

"Hey, wait up!" she said, catching up with him.

He looked at her, dumbfounded. What was she doing, following him back to the dormitory? Did she see the way he stared at her when she startled him?

"What?" he asked, scrunching up his nose.

"I forgot your name," she said, and extended her hand. "We met at the beginning of the year. Remember, I'm Lily?"

"Remus," he said, shaking her hand, and then continuing down the corridor.

"You're Potter's friend, aren't you?"

"James? Yeah," Remus said, getting sick and tired of being only known as "Potter's friend."

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, "You must get rather tired of that --- not being called anything else."

"I'm called other things!" Remus said indignantly, although they both knew it was a lie.

"So where did you come from, Remus Lupin?" Lily said as they turned a corner, "Are you from a wizarding family, too?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, I just supposed --- it seems they all run together --- and Sirius Black and Potter and that other boy ---"

"I'm half-blood," Remus said quietly, "My grandparents are Muggles."

"How does that make you half-blood?"

"It's enough for most that care to consider me no good," Remus tried to explain to her, "And you're Muggle born?"

"Yes," she said, "Is it that obvious?"

"No," Remus said, "But to think on it, I hadn't ever really wondered. I suppose I don't think about those things --- you're the first to ask me what I was ---" he paused for a minute, and then said, "It's rather funny, though. If purebloods run together, then your Slytherin friend is taking quite a risk."

"Who? Severus?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Lily gave a small frown, "He's not pureblood --- he's a half-blood, too ---"

There was an uncomfortable silence as Remus had the sudden urge to give out a sort of exclamation of surprise. Severus Snape, a half-blood?! God, wait 'till he told James ---

"I think it's horrible how James treats Severus," Lily said, and Remus's eyes grew even wider, his mouth becoming even more stretched with amazement.

"Well, I think it's horrible how Severus treats him!" Remus retorted, and they came to an abrupt halt. "Are we finished now?"

Without another word, Lily stared at Remus in complete turmoil, and then she ran off in another direction, her face in her hands. Very awkward. _Girls_, Remus thought, and he continued walking to the dormitory.

""""""""""""""""""""

The feast was over in an instant, and Sirius felt dread well up inside of him. He was going home this summer. It would be the first time since the Howler that he would have to confront his family. He had avoided them for Christmas, but his father had insisted that he return after the second term. And what could the Potters do? Kidnap him?

James felt Sirius's depressing mood as they left for the train the next day.

"Wanna talk about it, mate?" James asked.

Sirius shook his head.

"Well, you know you would be more than welcome to come home with me if you could. Wendy's room is still vacant. We haven't got a postcard from her for ages, and it seems that she may have met someone-"

"Thanks, but you know I can't. I know I can't. So --- I can't. Let's just drop it. I want to enjoy the trip home."

They climbed onto the train behind Remus, walked past Darryl (who was glaring at them) and a dark haired boy named Davey Gudgeon, and made their way into a compartment. Peter was already sitting there, holding his wand and saving the compartment for his friends.

"I had to warn Dung off with a hex," he said proudly as they took a seat in the compartment. "And he backed off as soon as I told him who I was saving it for. Apologized and the whole bit!"

"Well, me and Dung are friends," Sirius said snidely to Peter. "You could have let him in."

Peter's face fell.

The train started up, and Remus went to looking out the window. Three more days until the full moon. At least he would be at home, away from his friends. If they ever found out, it would be more than he could stand. He looked to Sirius, who was sitting opposite him, glaring at the floor. What would Sirius say if he found out about his condition? He would probably chuck him out of the compartment faster than you could say "Quidditch."

He sighed. His mother could only stay sick for so long. What amazing story would he come up with next? Wouldn't they catch on after a while?

_Don't worry about it right now,_ Remus thought to himself. _You have the whole summer before school starts up again.  
_  
"You all right?" Sirius asked, glancing up from the floor. He looked worse than Remus.

"Could be better," he replied while shifting in his seat.

"So, what sort of adventure are we going to go on next Halloween?" James tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't work. Sirius just shrugged, and Remus wrung his hands together. Peter was the only one who looked like he had some idea, but shut his mouth when he saw that everyone else had fallen silent.

There was no enjoying the trip back home. The food cart lady looked as shaken as she had when she had come around at the beginning of the year, and she was grumbling to herself about how half of her Chocolate Frogs had just disappeared.

"Hooligans," she said as she passed a Fizzing Whizbee to Peter. "Marauding around, causing trouble."

"Marauding," James said as he bit into his paid-for Chocolate Frog. "Nice word."

Before long they had arrived at King's Cross and were departing the train to find their families. James and Sirius instantly spotted Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and Sirius waved from the platform. They waved back, and Mrs. Potter smiled at him. Oh, if only he could go home with them.

"Well, Sirius, I guess I'll see you in a few months," James said, shaking his hand. "And send me an owl or two. I want to hear from you."

"All right." Sirius smiled, and saw James walk to his loving parents. He thought he saw Sprite peek from behind Mrs. Potter's cloak.

Remus was still standing next to Sirius, looking around for his parents. Sirius looked down at Remus's head. It was taller. Actually, it was a bit taller. A half an inch at least. And his cheeks were a bit pinker as well. Remus, feeling eyes peering at him, looked up, and Sirius quickly looked away.

"You see your folks yet?" Sirius asked.

Remus shook his head. "Not yet. How about you?"

"I see them," Sirius nodded towards two sullen faced wizards, one a boy and the other a man, "but they don't see me. Let's keep it that way."

"Your father?"

"And brother," Sirius said, groaning. It was Regulus all right. As pompous as ever. He saw that Aunt Elladora had bought him a new watch that he was adjusting every few minutes.

"You have a brother?" Remus asked, surprised.

"Yeah, and you can take him any time you want," Sirius said. Regulus had spotted him, and his expression was one of a lemon's. "They see me. I've got to get going. Well, Lupin, I'll see you in the fall."

"Send owls."

"All right," Sirius said, offhandedly, and rolled his trunk to his awaiting doom.

"Oh, Sirius, you are in trouble," Regulus sniffed.

His father didn't look at him. He didn't talk either. He just turned around and walked through the barrier back into the Muggle world.

_Good,_ Sirius thought, but he looked back at Mr. Potter, embracing James and asking with delight how the Invisibility Cloak had been working for him. He imagined himself going back to the Potter's house, eating chestnuts, staying up late and leafing through magazines with James.

He looked back at Regulus, and then at James.

"You have a brother?" Remus had asked.

Sirius smiled to himself as he passed through the barrier. _Oh, yes I do_, he mused. _I really do._


	14. Chapter 13: The Knights of Walpurgis

**CHAPTER 13**

**The Knights of Walpurgis**

A month had passed. No mail from Peter. Remus had sent a lovely postcard from his home. It was a very nice Muggle village --- more like a city. James had sent a letter almost every week, depicting everything that happened in his house. Sirius guessed that his friend thought it would make him feel better, knowing what fun he was having.

James' last letter had read:

_Sirius, _

How are you and your wonderful family? Sprite says hi. She's taken a liking to Kreacher for some reason. They've never met, but she finds it fascinating to hear about other house-elves, seeing as she doesn't know any. My mum and dad said that it would be fine for you to come for a stay this summer, if it's all right with your ever loving parents. Anyway, Wendy finally wrote us back and told us that she's getting married. She needs all of her stuff moved out of her room as soon as possible, which means that when you come back (with a little luck), your room will be white instead of pink. I know it bugged you. It would bug anyone. Except Wendy. I wrote to Remus, and he sent me back a postcard. Did you get one, too? He says that Florinda Fawnsdale used to live in the woods behind his house, and he's going to send us a picture of the forest soon. Haven't heard from Peter yet. Or anyone else. I wish that you could write back, but I guess your caring and always loving parents won't let you write back. So fine, I'll just keep writing and sending Dag (my owl) along with these long and extensive notes. Hope you haven't died, and don't send me back a dungbomb again.

James 

Sirius hadn't been able to respond to anyone's letters. Actually, he had spent most of his vacation scrubbing the floors by hand and sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. Narcissa and her two sisters had visited for a week, and that had been hell. She and Bellatrix were constantly shooting glares at him. He heard Narcissa tell her little sister one night, "Everyone in Slytherin thinks he cheated his way into Gryffindor. He belongs with us. Everyone knows it."

_Oh, do they?_ Sirius thought. 

Andromeda was the only comfort that he had. They played hours and hours of wizard's chess with his new chess set that the Potters had given him for Christmas. He told her about all of the adventures that he and the others had taken, including the one into Klein's office.

"He was talking about a business opportunity," Sirius said. "With a colleague of his."

"Klein's a friend of my father," Andromeda said, moving her queen over two spaces. "He was giving the same speech to him a few nights ago. It seems as if he's talked to everyone. The Malfoys, the Weasleys, the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Notts, you know --- all the old pureblood wizarding families. It seems as if some man called --- what did they call him --- well, I can't remember the name now --- but they were all agreeing to band together in some sort of rally. I have no idea why ---"

"And all of them agreed?" Sirius asked, moving a pawn.

"Most of them, but not the Potters. Or the Weasleys. They just had a baby, you know. Arthur and Molly?"

"Good for them," Sirius grumbled, having no idea who they were. He didn't care, either. And it didn't come to him as a surprise that Mr. and Mrs. Potter would say no to something the rest of the purebloods would agree to.

"It doesn't sound good, though," Andromeda added. "My father said that he would think about it. But you know him. He'll never turn over to --- well, you know --- the Dark Side of magic."

"The Dark Side?" Sirius said, perking up. "What do you mean? It's a rally for Dark Wizards?"

"Oh, yeah," Andromeda continued, "Klein called them the Knights of Walpurgis. I have no idea what Walpurgis is, though. Sounds like our motto, though? Toujours Pur?"

"Our motto?" Sirius huffed. "You mean their motto."

"I'm sort of unnerved about it, though," she said, moving her king. "I mean, it doesn't sound like a family picnic, does it? Rallies of Dark Magic? Knights of Walpurgis? Secret meetings with all the purebloods? If only I could remember the name of the man that's doing all of it --- he goes by some weird foreign nickname. Lord Voldemort, I think they said ---"

Sirius wasn't sad to see his cousins go. But the conversation he had shared with Andromeda that day had been enough to make him think. Something was going on. And it didn't sound like a reunion --- that was for sure. Andromeda was right, it wasn't a family picnic.

He searched his brain, trying to think of where exactly it had been that he had read that last name. It was no use. It was hopeless. He doubted if he would ever remember.

It was the end of July when his father finally called him into the sitting room. He sat down in the chair, and his father took the couch with a bottle of butterbeer. He didn't offer one to his son. He clicked the glass container with his fingernails, and stared at his prisoner. He had something else in his hands as well. It was a letter.

"Sirius, I have received a letter from the Potters," he said. "Their son wants to invite you back for the remainder of the holidays."

"Can I go?" he said at once.

"That is what I wanted to speak with you about." His father wasn't making eye contact. He was still smarting inside from the sorting. Sirius smiled to himself. "There is a rally that has begun between our pure families. We have given our full support to their cause. Which means that we will be watched a bit more carefully. Your cousin tells us that you are befriending half bloods, mudbloods-"

"They're people, they're all people. And some of the best in the class are Muggle-born," Sirius defended them.

"Muggle-born? Did my son just say 'muggle-born?' My, my, Sirius, you have changed." Mr. Black tutted, and he looked back at the letter and ripped it in half. "The Potters have declined to answer their calling into the rally. Unlike us, they do not support the cause. Therefore, I forbid you to ever talk to this child again. Or anymore of your little friends."

"So you want me to be an outcast?" Sirius spat.

"No, I want you to make friends with the right sort. Follow Narcissa around for a few days. She has many good acquaintances that would love to meet you." Mr. Black then paused to throw the letter into the fire. "If you know what's good for you, you'll go begging to Dumbledore to put you in Slytherin next September. We have a name to uphold, and I am not letting any snot-nosed son of mine ruin our entire proud lineage."

Sirius glared at him. He hated them even more than he had before. He gritted his teeth and managed a "Yes, sir" before running upstairs and grabbing the family owl. He skidded to a stop to throw Kreacher out of his room ("Mother's disappointment. Black sheep!") and then went straight to the desk to write. He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and jotted down a letter.

_James, _

Dad just got your letter. He's forbidden me to ever talk to you again. So, naturally, we need to talk. 

_I have some important news to give you. My cousin said that there's a rally of Dark Wizards and that they're plotting something. My parents are furious with me! Help me! Come kidnap me! They won't mind._

Sirius

He tied the letter to his owl's leg and threw him out of the window. And then he waited patiently for a reply. There had to be a faster way to communicate that his parents wouldn't notice.

He finally gave up, announcing that it was stupid to think that James would write back that quickly, and lay on his bed, wondering about the Knights of Walpurgis. He knew that hardly anyone knew about it. Were these the same colleagues that Klein had been talking to Snape about? It must have been. Klein had been going around to all of the families, it sounded like --- it sounded like his family had already been cleared. But Mr. and Mrs. Potter wouldn't budge. They never would. What would happen to them?

Oh, if only he had listened in History of Magic. Nothing like this had ever happened before, had it? Walpurgis. What in God's name was a Walpurgis?

There was a fire starting in his heart. He knew he had to do something. Oh, yes, he would be going to Dumbledore in the fall all right. But not to ask him to switch to Slytherin.

It was three days later that James's reply came in the mail. It was along with a letter from Remus.

_Sirius: _

Greetings from the woods! Here are the pictures I -  
  
Sirius threw Remus's letter aside, and tore James's open. It read:

_Sirius: _

This isn't good news. You think it has anything to do with Klein and Snivelly? Klein was over at our house with a man named Dolohov. They were talking about a rally, too. Same one? Probably. And I don't really care what your parents say. You're sticking with us. My parents want to come get you at once, but we can't. You know that. I'll see you in a month. Don't write again. It'd be best if you didn't get caught sneaking letters to me.

James


	15. Chapter 14: Snivellus and James

**CHAPTER 14**

**Snivellus and James**

It was only a month until he was freed from this prison. He started counting down the days on his calendar, ticking each day off as it fell away. Finally, the end of summer had come, and he was packing his bags to go to King's Cross. Only two more hours, and he would see James again. They could talk in private without his father breathing down his neck.

Finally, he was climbing onto the train, and running to their usual compartment. Remus was already there, waving out the window to his family. He looked worse than he had two months ago.

"Hey, Lupin," Sirius said, taking a seat and putting his trunk underneath.

Remus turned around and smiled. "Hey, Sirius. Did you like my pictures?"

"Yeah, they were great." Sirius sighed and looked out the window behind Remus. "Is James here yet?"

"No, but I see Peter." Remus pointed at an even larger view of the boy saying goodbye to his parents. They were equally as large. "Think he went on that diet?"

"By the looks of it? No," Sirius said.

"Hey guys."

James walked into the compartment, his trunk being heaved behind him. He gave Sirius a sympathetic look. "How was your summer?"

"You don't need me to answer that one for you," Sirius huffed.

Remus nodded his head and said, "Pretty good. Yours?"

"We've got to tell you something," Sirius said, and James looked taken aback. "No, James. He's our friend. If we're going to do anything about it, he's got to know."

And they told him all about the Knights of Walpurgis.

"I've heard of Voldemort before," Remus said thoughtfully. "He's a powerful wizard. My dad was really scared of him a few years back. He says that Voldemort has some hands in some things he shouldn't be touching. He's a bit off his rocker a bit. But he's a genius."

"Have they come to your house yet?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"No," Remus said, "Or, at least, from what I know of. I mean, I don't know of Klein stopping by. Probably not interested in my family, anyway. My dad's a Muggle-born."

"You never told us that," James said.

"It's not important, is it?" Remus huffed, and wiped his nose on his large sleeve. "Anyway, it sounds like bad news. I have no idea what Walpurgis means either. Sounds German-"

"Hi," Peter said as he crowded into the compartment. Sirius rolled his eyes as he sat down next to Remus. "How was your summer?"

"Remind me again how you got into Gryffindor?" Sirius asked. "I thought the dunderheads all went to Hufflepuff."

James had to excuse himself after a few minutes to go to the bathroom. It was located at the back of the train. He passed Mundungus Fletcher's (a friend of Sirius's) compartment. He was a weasel-y sixth year, and he was trying to illegally bet on the outcome of the Quidditch Cup by the time that James had passed their door. Lily Evans was in the next compartment. He looked down at his feet, trying not to look at her. She had noticed him, he was sure of it.

"Oof!" He fell back and shook his head. Lying in a heap was Snape, glaring at him, and trying to pick up his books that he had been carrying.

"Watch where you're going!" James shouted, and he pushed Snape back onto the floor.

"Me? _You_ ran into _me_, Potter!"

The boys scrambled to their feet, wands raised high in the air. "You'd do good to learn some manners, Snivelly," James retorted. "_Expelliarmus!"_

Snape's wand shot out of his hand, and he stared at James with a deer-in-the-headlights gaze.

"_Incamento!_" A spurt of red light jumped from James's wand and hit Snape square in the face. Blotches of red began to appear, and Snape howled with pain.

James laughed and kicked him aside as he continued on his trip to the bathroom.

"_Soracto!_"

James fell to the ground, his eyelids shut tightly. He couldn't open them. He was blind!

"_Dracus Droganas!"_ James shouted to the blackness, and he heard a scream come from Snivellus. All at once, his eyes opened again, and he found Snape sporting a new tail, the length of a car. It slammed into the nearest compartment's door with a BANG!, and Lily Evans came rushing out into the corridor with a worried look upon her face. Snape looked to her in complete terror, and James gave a bit of a grin.

He laughed, "Well, Snivelly, I think we've-"

"Argghh!" Snape lunged at James with a battle cry, forgetting about his new tail, and knocked him to the ground.

"Stop it, both of you! Sev, stop it!" Lily shouted. Snape socked one good in James's face, but James, with ease, rolled Snape onto the ground and returned the punch.

Sirius and Remus's voices could be heard coming closer. Soon he felt Sirius tugging on his arm and pulling him out of the way.

"What are you doing?" James shouted as Remus helped him to his feet.

Sirius took James's spot and hit Snape hard in the mouth. There was a wail of pain, and then Sirius pointed a finger at him "You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. Don't you ever put your grubby little hands on Potter again. You understand me?"

"Get off, you git," Snape spat.

Sirius hit him again. Remus looked around nervously. Students were starting to come out of their compartments. Soon enough one of the prefects or conductors would be coming to see what the commotion was about.

"Don't you ever call me a git, you little-"

"You know what your cousin told all of us?" Snape smirked.

"Do you think I give a damn what Narcissa's got to say-"

"She said that you're the darkest one of the bunch. You're just scared. You're a coward. That's why you begged the Sorting Hat to let you into-"

SMACK.

Snape held his face for a moment, and then spat out a back molar.

"Please! Stop it!" Lily screamed, rushing to shove Sirius to the floor. He went back with an "oof!" and looked treacherously up into the green eyes of the little witch.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Sirius looked up to find a very peeved looking Rubeus Hagrid staring at him. Were they already at the school? He couldn't see the windows from the floor. They must have been, though. The students were starting to grab their luggage and lag it outside.

"What in ruddy hell d'you think yer doin'?" Hagrid lunged forward and pried him off of Snape, who was still holding his bleeding mouth. But he was smirking. Yes, he still had that stupid smile plastered to his face.

Hagrid grabbed him as well, and he carried the two boys under his arms out of the train and down a platform like they were luggage. He threw them into a horseless carriage and then said to the invisible driver, "Take them straight to Dumbledore."

The carriage began to move, and Sirius glowered at Snape. There had never been two people that hated each other more. Snape was still sporting his large tail and spots. The tail hung out of the door and trailed on the path behind them. Sirius had come out of it unscathed.

_Great_, Sirius thought, _Now it'll look like _I_ beat up on him._

They didn't say anything on their trip to the castle. Sirius was thinking about expulsion. Who knew what Snape thought. He looked quite content with himself. He had found a soft spot in the rough and tough Sirius Black, and he would surely be sharing this discovery with his fellow Slytherins.

Soon, the compartment door opened, and invisible hands clamped themselves onto the scruffs of the boys' necks, and dragged them inside the castle. It was a clear night, and Sirius could hear the sounds of excited voices from inside the Great Hall and on the lake. The first years would be sorted any minute now. No one from the Black family this year. It was still about five years before Bellatrix would be attending Hogwarts, and Andromeda had been forced to go to Durmstrang three years ago. She didn't like it, of course. Regulus would be coming next year. Oh, wouldn't that be a treat.

Soon enough, they were outside a large statue of a phoenix. Filch was waiting for them, smiling first at Snape and then glaring at Sirius.

The two boys were suddenly let free of the invisible driver. They heard footsteps walking back down the corridor. Filch's smile lengthened, and he said, "Lemon drops."

Sirius and Snape stood on the spiraling staircase that surrounded the phoenix, and soon enough, the two of them were soaring through a large tunnel and into a gigantic office. Behind a desk sat Dumbledore, with Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall flanking him.

"Severus Snape, and Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, the glint in his eye gone. "Do you know there is no fighting on school grounds? And did you know that this does, in fact, include the Hogwarts Express?"

"Yes, sir," Snape said from behind his red blotches. Dumbledore took out his wand, waved it, and Snape's tail and acne disappeared.

"I do not care to know who attacked who first and who started it," Dumbledore said sternly. "You both have won yourselves detention and a fifty point loss from both of your houses."

"What about Potter, sir?" Snape asked. "He was the one who-"

"I have not heard any accusations towards Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "Now, the rest of your punishments are up to your Heads of House-"

"Well, I'm making an accusation now!" Snape said. "He attacked me in the train corridor!"

"Were there any witnesses for when the attack initially started, Mr. Snape?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, but-"

"Well, then," he interrupted, "it isn't a fair accusation."

"It isn't a fair accusation?!" Snape repeated in disbelief. "Did you see my tail, Professor?"

"I am guessing that that was the work of Mr. Black. Am I right, Mr. Black?"

"Yes," Sirius said quickly.

"Well, there you are," Dumbledore said, his eyes glittering from behind his half moon spectacles. "Now, Professor Slughorn will escort you, Severus, back to the festivities, and Professor McGonagall will escort you, Sirius. You may leave."

Snape left the room, followed by Slughorn, fuming. Sirius smiled to himself as Professor McGonagall led him down the staircase and back into the corridors.


	16. Chapter 15: The Rise and Fall of Darryl ...

**CHAPTER 15**

**The Rise and Fall of Darryl Avery**

"Now I am ready to be civil with you four," Darryl said, folding his hands onto his lap. "Last year, I think we can all agree, was a nightmare."

"Actually, I remember it being very fulfilling," James said, crossing his legs.

"I believe that you and I have different takes on what we think is 'fulfilling,' James," Darryl retorted.

Sirius snorted.

"As I was saying," Darryl said, eyeing Sirius fearfully, "I have a proposition to make."

"All right, well, then make it," James said.

"I will." Darryl brought out a piece of parchment and scanned it. "Well, I made up a schedule for all of us to follow here. It's sort of a contract."

"What's it say?" James asked, as Remus, who was sitting on the bed behind him, took the contract.

"It says that we are all in bed by nine o' clock every night, and we do not, under any circumstances, get out of bed until eight o' clock."

"It also says that Peter has to get rid of his rat," Remus said, scanning the contract.

"Are you nutters?" James said, mussing up his hair. "That's the only thing Peter's got going for him!"

"And what will you give us in turn for all this?" Remus asked.

"I will give you the satisfaction of you knowing that I won't tell the teachers about your little escapades. Yes, I know all about them," Darryl said. "Getting Peeves in here every night to shake my bed and make as much noise as humanly possible. Opening and closing the door."

Sirius raised a brow, and looked at James. James, trying to hold back a laugh, yanked the parchment out of Remus's hand, and tore it in half.

"No deal," James said finally, "We don't accept it. Peter keeps his rat, Sirius keeps threatening you as much as he wants. Go whining to the teachers. But remember, two can play at that game. Oh, yes, we know all about _it_, Darryl."

Darryl became very white.

"You're bluffing," he said.

"Oh, you think so?" James said, smiling evilly. The other three were very confused.

"I've known for months, Darryl. I bet someone would be very pleased to know about _it_. Do I need to elaborate?"

Darryl shook his head slowly, then he walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

"Care to tell the rest of us?" Remus asked.

James waved his hand. "There's always something everyone doesn't want anyone to know about. I was just bluffing. I have no idea what the git was so scared about. But it worked, hey?"

Sirius patted him on the back and went back to unpacking.

"""""""""""""""""""

The beginning of their first term began the next day, and Remus was no where to be found.

"He couldn't have gone home already," Sirius said as they made their way into the Herbology room. "He just got here."

"He sure ran out of the dormitory pretty quick last night," James said. "Come to think of it, I don't remember him coming back in."

Their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was so boring that even Sirius couldn't stay awake. They never heard his name, but it seemed that it started with an _F_. He spoke in a drawling voice. Halfway through the class, Peter fell out of his chair, asleep. The teacher had just continued on with his class just as if nothing had happened. He was worse than Professor Binns, James concluded, as he rubbed his eyes and stepped back out into the corridor.

Transfiguration was just as strict as it had been last year. Professor McGonagall stood in front of their class, welcoming them back. She eyed Sirius and James, and made some comment about how she was expecting greater things out of second years than first years and not to disappoint her. There was no smile on her face this time.

Then it was off to Potions with Slughorn. In the corridor on the trek to the dungeon, Sirius and James were pulled aside by one of the third year teachers, Professor Snorks, and asked to give Remus a message: He may be leaving that very day to see some old friends who had taken ill, and he wouldn't return to Hogwarts for at least three months.

"Tell him to speak to Sprout about my replacement, eh?" the bald Arithmancy teacher added very quickly as he strolled away.

Snape was glowering the whole day, giving evil looks to James and Sirius. He had his first detention that night with Sirius, and neither of them was looking forward to it. They were to clean the Herbology greenhouses, one by one --- without magic.

"Thanks again for saving me out of a detention," James said to Sirius as they walked out of Potions.

"Welcome," Sirius said, and they continued to lunch.

To their surprise, there was Remus, sitting by himself, shaking and trying to eat a skinned potato. Even if he looked like he was about to throw up his breakfast.

"Where were you?" James asked as he, Peter, and Sirius sat down next to him.

"Don't ask," Remus said, shaking. He reached for his spoon, but his hand hit his goblet, and his milk went spilling all over the floor. "Oh, damn." He bent over to clean it up, hands still shaking.

"Are you feeling all right?" Sirius asked, looking him over. "You're looking sort of peaky again."

"What?" Remus said, returning to the table. "Oh, right. Well-"

"Is it your mother again?" Peter blurted out.

James stepped on his foot under the table, but Remus just nodded. "I got an owl from her this morning --- had to miss my first classes --- it was an emergency. I traveled by Floo Powder to home to see her. I knew she shouldn't have taken me to the platform yesterday. It's all my fault."

His lip started to tremble, and James comforted him by patting him on the back and telling him it would be okay.

"But it won't," Remus said. "It's just getting worse. I don't know what I'm gonna do."

It was a very quiet lunch.

The night had come, and the four of them waited until Darryl was fast asleep with his eye mask on. Then, when James gave the signal, they all jumped out of bed, fully dressed. He pulled out his trusty Cloak and smiled.

Minutes later, they were in position, walking out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Where to go?"

"How about that one doorway that I saw?" Peter asked.

"Are you still obsessed with that stupid doorway?" Sirius sighed. "For God's sake, Peter! There are better things to do than going around and-"

"Hey," James said, hushing him up. "Wonder if 'Peeves' is gonna mess with Darryl tonight. Too bad he's not here."

Sirius smiled. "I know what you're thinking. And I like it."

"Are we for it?" James asked.

"I'm in," Sirius said.

"Whatever," Remus sighed, and the four of them turned around to face the sleeping Darryl.

"""""""""""

The morning was very calm. The birds were singing their sweet tunes outside, and Hagrid could be heard singing along with them. It was especially quiet in the dormitory room. This may have been because Remus had woken up from his sleeping, and was listening for a sound he knew would come. Or it may have been that Sirius and James were still sleeping, exhausted from the late night. _Or_ maybe it was because Darryl wasn't anywhere in sight. 

"AAAAAHHH!"

A shrill scream came from the highest astronomy tower. Peter sniggered. Remus groaned, and pulled a pillow over his head. He knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, the sound of footsteps was heard as Professor McGonagall and Darryl charged into the dormitory room at full speed. Sirius and James snapped awake and covered themselves with their blankets.

"Professor!"

Darryl was very red in the face, and he pointed his bony little finger at Sirius. "IT WAS HIM!" he screamed, "IT WAS ALL OF THEM!"

"What are you going on about, Darryl?" Remus asked, pretending to have just woken up. He rubbed his eyes.

"YOU! YOU LITTLE FREAK!" he charged at full speed to the foot of Remus's bed. "YOU HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT, TOO!"

"Now, Mr. Avery, I don't think that that's necessary." Professor McGonagall grabbed Darryl by the arms and pulled him away from Remus, who was trying to act confused.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!" Darryl threatened, still jabbing his finger at him. Remus grew stone cold. "I'VE KNOWN FOR A LONG TIME NOW! I'LL TELL THEM! THEY DON'T KNOW, DO THEY? THEY DON'T KNOW YOUR LITTLE SECRET, DO THEY?" His eyes were dodging towards James, Sirius, and Peter, who were speechless.

"Darryl-" Professor McGonagall started.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH! YOU KNOW, DON'T YOU?" Darryl started in on her.

"I have no idea what you are referring to," Professor McGonagall said sternly, "And don't you point your finger at me. I understand that you are upset, but that's no excuse for accusing-"

"I'M NOT ACCUSING! I KNOW THEY DID IT! THEY'RE IN CAHOOTS WITH PEEVES!"

"Peeves was in my office last night, drawing mustaches on portraits," Professor McGonagall informed him. "There is no possible way that he could be working with them. He's never cooperated with a student."

"They have their ways," Darryl said, glaring at Sirius. Sirius grinned.

"You're talking nonsense, Mr. Avery," she said. "Now clean yourself up, and get some new trousers on. Class starts in an hour."

The four boys' eyes drifted down to Darryl's pants. There was a large wet spot covering the front of them. Sirius gave out a "ha!" and James bit his lip to stop from laughing.

"Nice," Sirius commented as soon as Professor McGonagall had left.

"Just you wait," Darryl glared at Sirius, "Just you wait, Black! I'll see that you never forget this! I'll show you."

"What are you going to do? Wee on me?" Sirius smiled his sly smile, and Darryl ran towards him, fist raised. But someone caught it in mid air, and forced Darryl away from him. It was Remus, and he looked ready to kill.

"Like Sirius said," he said in a calm voice, "you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. Don't you touch him."

Darryl looked frightened for a moment, but then collected himself, and looked back at Remus's astounded friends. Then he whispered so only his captor could hear, "You just wait until they find out what you are, werewolf. They'll abandon you. I know it, and you know it."

Remus glared and tightened his grip on Darryl's wrist.

"Get out," he said, and then pushed him back onto his bed. Darryl was still smiling as he picked himself up and closed the door behind him.

The other three boys were still in shock as Remus sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and made his way to his trunk for clean clothes.

"Well, that was --- surprising," Sirius said in a newly found respect for his small friend.

Darryl moved out of the dormitory that lunch period. He took the extra bed with the first years, and everyone (but the first years) seemed the happier for it. By the time that the four friends got around to returning for some sleep that night, his bed was empty. Remus still had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He was sure that this wouldn't be the last that he heard from Darryl Avery.


	17. Chapter 16: The Secret of Remus Lupin

**CHAPTER 16**

**Remus's Secret**

September passed in the wink of an eye. The leaves were falling from the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and it looked as if the woods were alight with fire during the sunset. The students had taken a new interest in the Whomping Willow; they enjoyed whacking it with a stick, and seeing how close they could get to the trunk before it took a whack at them.

Ever since the night of Darryl's outburst, Sirius had been very quiet. He studied Remus with the utmost curiosity, and could be found in the library. He had even been able to talk Professor F into writing him a permission slip for the Restricted Section. James was worried, so he followed him into the library. Madam Pince groaned as she saw the two of them walk in side by side.

"You're starting to turn into Snape, you know that?" James said as they moved briskly to the Restricted Section.

"Uh huh," Sirius said offhandedly, and then he started to scan the shelves. "Help me, here, okay? I'm looking for --- oh, wait, I've got it. Yeah, this is the one."

He grabbed the book and headed for a table. He hungrily opened it and began to read.

"Yeah! Just what I thought!" Sirius said, nodding his head vigorously. "I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

"What? You knew what?" James asked, sitting down next to him. Sirius pointed at old writing that was written in blood.

_Werewolves  
Dark Creatures of the Night_

Werewolves are known for their savage ways. Every month when the full moon rises, the half-blooded monster will transform by the moon's light into its true form, and not return to his or her human form until dawn breaks.

_  
Werewolves are considered dangerous. They are watched carefully by the Ministry of Magic at all times.  
_  
"James, do you know what this means?" Sirius asked.

"I have no clue," James said, looking back at the page.

"You remember Remus's mum? How you were feeling so sorry for her?"

"Yeah, it's a horrible thing to happen to-"

"She's fine."

James looked up at Sirius's dark face. "What? What do you mean she's fine? It was only last night that Remus told us that he's going back to see her."

"He's not going to see her," Sirius said.

"What?"

"I should have realized it sooner."

"Speak up, man! What are you talking about?"

Sirius let out a deep breath, and then said quickly, "Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

James didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Lupin, quiet Lupin, a vicious monster? What kind of -

But Sirius wasn't smiling. He was stone cold, his face set. It wasn't like him.

"Sirius?" James asked weakly.

"Think about it," Sirius said, "Klein despised him. Well, no wonder. He was an Auror that killed them for a job, and there's one sitting right in the back of his class, and he has to teach him. And then his snuffbox. Did you see it? He was right after me in the exams. It was a full moon. A full moon, James! What about him arguing with Klein? The way that all the other teachers favor him? The way that Professor McGonagall babies him? Remember the night that he was howling and screaming, and we had to sleep out in the common room? That wasn't a dream, James. That was him doing his --- doing his little _thing_ --- turning into a werewolf. The claw marks, James! You saw them as well as I did! He never takes any bags with him! He always looks physically ill when he comes back! And not to mention," he said, plowing on - James looked like he was going to be sick - "Darryl saying that _he_ _knew what he was_."

"That's --- that's crazy ---"

"It's true," Sirius said, slamming the book shut, "and I'm going to prove it to you tonight. We're following him. When Sprout comes to get him, we're following him to wherever he goes every month. Get your Invisibility Cloak ready. All three of us, together."

"He's just going to head down to the station, or maybe a fireplace or something."

"Maybe," Sirius said, "but I have to know. God, I can't believe he didn't tell us…"

""""""""""""""""""""""

Four o' clock came more slowly than usual. Sprout and a new companion, Professor F, were late again. It wasn't until six, again, when he arrived. James, Sirius, and Peter were sitting with Remus, like always, and Remus was wringing his hands together. His cheeks were sunken in, and he was shaking again.

"You guys don't have to wait with me every time, really," he said to the cold faced boys. They shrugged nonchalantly. Peter was shaking as well, staring wide eyed at Lupin, teeth chattering.

"So, uh --- say hello to your moo --- I mean, mum --- for us," Peter stammered.

Remus nodded, and the shriek of the Fat Lady was heard.

"Well, see you soon," he said, and he made his way through the portrait and into the care of F and Sprout.

As the portrait door slammed, Sirius muttered, "Sooner than you think."

James took out the Invisibility Cloak from under the couch, making sure no one was watching, and they stood in a triangle, fitting underneath. Quietly, they snuck off through the portrait, and down the spiraling stairs. 

"You look tired, Remus." Sprout's voice was coming from the corridor leading to the entrance hall. "Haven't you been sleeping?"

"Yes, ma'am."

James pointed down the marble staircase, and they rushed down it. The figures of Sprout, F, and Remus were seen at the bottom of the staircase, opening the doors to go outside.

"We're calling it close," Sprout said, glaring at F. "We must hurry. The moon is already out."

Remus shivered.

Sirius gasped. It was true. He didn't really think that it --- but it _was_ ---

They scurried behind the sprinting figures and onto the grounds. To the Whomping Willow they went, and Sprout brandished a long stick from her cloak. She touched a small knot at the bottom of the tree, and it became still.

And all of a sudden, as James, Sirius, and Peter ran towards the tree, the clouds parted, and the moon's light shone down on them under the cloak. James's eyes darted from the full orb to the silhouette of Remus only a few feet away.

Remus made a large gurgling sound and became limp in F's arms.

"Not again," Sprout said desperately, glaring at F for the second time. "I don't know why you were so late, but-"

"No time to talk, Professor," F said, jumping into the ground. _There must be a hole there, _Sirius realized.

"Come on!" Sirius said, running forward.

"What?" James cried.

"Shhh!" Sirius said, and he tugged the other two into the dark hole at the Willow's base.

They could hear screams and pleas from the end of the tunnel that stood before them now. And approaching footsteps.

F was running for it, and whisked past them.

"CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT!" he shouted at Sprout as he scaled the opening, and bounded out of sight. The tunnel went dark.

"Oh, this is great," James said, glaring at Sirius. "This is just great. Now we're stuck in a dark hole, with a --- with a ---"

"I told you, a werewolf," Sirius said defiantly as he took out his wand. "_Lumos._" The tunnel became brighter, and they made their way through the dank passageway. The closer they got to the entrance, the louder and shriller the screams became.

Finally, they saw a trap door on the ceiling, and James looked to Sirius. Sirius bit his lip and forced the door open.

The tunnel seemed to be leading to a small shack. They hoisted themselves up into the claw-marked common room. The screams were coming from an upstairs room.

"Remus?" James shouted.

"What are you doing?" Peter squeaked. "He'll come and kill us all!"

There was a silent eeriness, and then clattering from above their heads. _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom_. Something was coming down the stairs.

"Remus?" James said again, a little quieter now.

A low growl sounded from behind the corner. The shadow of a beast stood on the wall opposite them, and Peter gasped.

"It is true," James whispered.

And then the creature rounded the corner, and it faced them, fangs bared.

It was right out of the illustration on page 394. Its snout was short and its nose black as the night. Its fur, the same color as Remus's hair, was standing on end, and the gigantic paws were clawing the floor. The tufted tail was swishing back and forth, and the eyes were glaring. Glaring? How could a wolf glare?

Saliva dripped steadily from its fangs, and it licked its lips as it studied its prey.

He took a pouncing position, and then lunged, very unexpectedly, at the three boys.

"RUN! RUN! RUN!" James screamed as they went for the trap door. But it wouldn't open. The wolf was driving full speed towards them.

"UPSTAIRS! QUICK!" Sirius said, and they ran from under the Invisibility Cloak.

The three boys charged up the rickety staircase, Peter still wide eyed and staring at the wolf. The wolf was in pursuit now, and he leapt onto the stairs behind them.

"COME ON!" James said, reaching the top and running into the closest room. Sirius flew in after him, and they slammed the door. There was an eerie silence as the three boys caught their breath. But wait, there were only two of them ---

"Where's Peter?" James whispered.

Sirius looked around, and then they both heard a scream from outside the door.

"LET ME IN! LET ME IN!" Peter's voice came.

James's eyes grew big, and he looked to Sirius. If they opened the door, the wolf was sure to get all of them. If they didn't then Peter would get bitten, or worse --- killed.

"Hey, you said it yourself. You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us, hey?" James smiled as if it were a challenge. "Open the door."

"Are you mad?"

"Open the door, Sirius." James's had his eyes fixed on the entranceway, set on what he was about to do.

"No, James! No, you're not-"

"Argh!" James grabbed the handle himself and flung it open. At once he wished he hadn't.

But he still stepped out into the hall, where the panting wolf was eyeing Peter hungrily from the top of the staircase. Peter was leaning against the wall next to the door, eyes red and cheeks white.

James shut the door behind him and held up his hands in surrender.

"Lupin," he said. The wolf didn't listen. He was still staring at his food.

"Remus," James repeated, louder. The wolf blinked, and turned its attention to him. His teeth were still bared. He had found new prey.

"Peter, slowly get to your feet, and walk inside the room," James muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Go, I've got him."

But Peter was paralyzed with fear. His knees shook, and he looked fit to faint.

"Lupin, I know you can hear me," James said, putting his back to the wall. The wolf wasn't moving. He was deciding which prey he liked better. The fat one or the tall one? "Remus, look at me. It's James. James Potter? You're friend? Remember? You helped me with my homework? And I visited you on Christmas? Your friend?"

The wolf's glare became softer, but its teeth were still bared. James felt fear well up in his heart. It wasn't working. Remus didn't recognize him.

"Remus, please," James pleaded now, "don't kill us. I know you're not a monster. I know that this isn't you. You're my friend. You're one of the top in our class. You like to read, and have a thing for staying out of trouble. Which I never understood, because you always hang out with us --- and we're magnets for trouble. Do you remember Klein? How he hated you? How he told us that the only thing you could be was that picture in the book? It's not true, Remus. It's not true!"

The wolf had forgotten about its prey, and it was now just staring at James, unsure. The glare had faded, and he now stood panting, eyes wide. He gave one look to Peter, and then back to James.

"Remus?" James said hopefully.

Remus gave a small whimper and lowered his head. Then, struggling with great difficulty, he forced himself to walk into the next vacant bedroom, and shut the door behind him. James ran to the door and locked it. From behind it, he could hear the growling, and then the howling and screaming continue.

Sirius opened his door to see what was going on, and looked surprised to see Peter and James alive, let alone in one piece.

"What happened?" he said disbelievingly as James dragged Peter into the room, and shut the door behind him. He locked it, too.

"What are you doing?" Peter squeaked. "Let's make a run for it!"

"No," James said sternly. "We're staying here. Until morning. He's still our friend. Remus is the same as he always was. Are we agreed?"

With great difficulty, Peter nodded. Sirius still looked back at James as if he was crazy.

"Are you nutters?" Sirius barked. "That --- that thing out there was not Remus! It was a-"

"Exactly," James said. "That thing isn't Remus. Remus wasn't really here."

"He tried to kill me," Peter shuddered.

"Oh, not you, too," James said, mussing his hair again. "Now listen to me, both of you. I don't care what he is! I don't care what he did! I know Remus, and Remus is my friend. And that's the way it's going to stay. If either one of you have a problem with that, you can leave now. There's the Cloak." He pointed to the piece of silvery fabric in the corner. "But I'm going to be here with him when he turns back. You guys make your own decisions."

He was sure that they would both leave him. But, surprisingly, Sirius was the first to the bed, and he sat down patiently, crossing his arms and staring out of the window. Peter followed in pursuit, and took a seat in the desk chair that looked like it was about to fall apart.

James sat down by the door, and listened to the howls next door. A few times, the wolf threw himself up against the wall, and the three boys jumped. Every time, James told himself that it wasn't Remus. It wasn't Remus.

But it was getting harder to believe.

""""""""""""""

Soon, the moon had gone and the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. Through the boarded up windows, light peered in, and James got to his feet. The howling had stopped, and he had heard a thud.

"Is it time?" Sirius asked, standing up as well. James nodded, and the three of them cautiously opened the door and made their way to the locked door to their right.

"Are you sure he's-"

James nodded again, and unlocked the knob. Then, very slowly, he turned the handle and opened the door to reveal the bloody scene in front of them.

Remus, little Remus, lay sprawled out on the floor, eyes halfway open, and breathing in raspy breaths. His clothes were torn.

And yet James felt as if it could have been much worse.

"Remus!" He rushed over to him and knelt down beside him. Remus didn't respond.

"Is he alive?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, I --- I think so," James heard the breathing. He flipped him onto his back and noticed a big gash on Remus' chest. But the blood had dried. This scar was from another night. He shuddered.

"Remus, can you hear me?" he said. Remus didn't respond.

"There's someone coming!" Peter whispered from the hall.

Sirius dragged James away from the injured boy and back into the other bedroom, where they quickly draped the cloak over themselves. The footsteps came up the stairs, walked down the hall, and turned into Remus's room. There was a huff as the unknown person picked him up, and then headed back down the hall and down the stairs. Soon they heard the footsteps die away, and the three boys quickly rushed out of the room.

""""""""""""""""""""

"Madam Pomfrey, it's an emergency!" James explained as she headed them off at the hospital wing entrance again.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I-"

"Let them in!"

Madam Pomfrey looked behind her. "Are you sure, Mr. Lupin? Are you feeling better?"

"Let them in." Remus's voice came again from out of sight. Madam Pomfrey decided resistance was futile at this point, and she stepped aside for the three of them to be let in.

James rushed ahead of Sirius and Peter, who awkwardly took a spot at the end of Remus's bed. He looked hardly any better. At least his cuts had been healed, and his breathing had turned to normal. Sadly, his face looked much older, and he seemed as if he wanted to die right there on the spot.

"Remus, are you okay?" James said, sitting down in the seat next to his head. "You look terrible."

Remus's lip trembled. He knew it wouldn't be long before they stormed out on him. Sirius already looked disgusted. He remembered Darryl's words.

_You just wait until they find out what you are, werewolf. They'll abandon you. I know it, and you know it.  
_

"I am --- so --- sorry," Remus sputtered out, trying not to cry. He knew it had been too good to be true. There was no possible way that they would ever talk to him again.

"Don't be," James said, patting his arm. "It's fine. No one got hurt."

"Are you sure?" Remus looked at Sirius and Peter, expecting them to grow fangs and howl.

"Yes, I'm sure," James assured him.

Remus's eyes moved to Sirius again. He was glaring now.

"How's your mum?" he said tersely.

Remus let out a moan and opened his mouth to explain, but Sirius cut him off.

"What's it going to be next, Lupin?" he growled. " Your great aunt's got the flu?"

"I made that story up so that you guys wouldn't know --- I couldn't tell anyone-"

"I thought we were your mates," Sirius snarled, and crossed his arms. "What, too good to clue us in on your little problem?"

"I thought that if you knew, you'd abandon me. I mean, it's happened before --- and-" Remus cut off, and then took a deep breath. "I guess I owe you guys an explanation, huh?"

They all nodded simultaneously, and Remus sat up a little straighter in his bed. "All right, well, you know that I live on the border of the woods, right?"

"Yeah," James said, "you showed us pictures this summer."

"Right," Remus continued. "Well, my parents have always warned me not to go into the woods alone. And I listened to them. Until about seven years ago, when I decided to wander off by myself. I was only a little kid. I didn't know any better. Anyways, it was nighttime, and the moon was out. And there was this man, holding his head and muttering something to himself. He stepped behind a tree, and when he came out --- he was a wolf.

"I screamed, and he saw me. I don't remember anything after that really. Except for my parents finding me an hour later, and my mother screaming. He had tried to kill me, and it was a miracle that I survived. Everyone said so." He ran his fingers through his hair. "They all had a hunch what had happened to me. They all thought that I may be a --- well, you know --- but my parents still accepted me. They still treated me like a normal human being. That is, until the next full moon. We were playing Gobstones in the living room, and I transformed right in front of them. They were hysterical. I had no future. No chance of a good life, because of my --- well --- my condition.

"So I spent a good portion of my childhood being hauled around to doctors and kept inside, away from anyone that may hurt me. It seemed as if I could never go to Hogwarts. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he said that there wasn't any reason why I couldn't if we took certain precautions --- and when I got here, he said that he had built that shack and that tunnel for me to transform in. And he planted the Whomping Willow right over the entrance to stop people from discovering the passageway and walking in on me. And he made me promise that I wouldn't tell anyone --- I --- the wolf is a whole other being. I can't control him. He lives inside me, all the time, but he can't get out unless the full moon strikes him. And that's just once a month. There isn't any cure. There isn't anyone to bite and scratch, so I hurt myself. It's a curse. It's a once-a-month nightmare."

It grew quiet while the boys took this all in. Sirius's face had fallen, and the loathing expression had turned to one of sympathy.

"Who was it?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"Who was it that bit you?"

Remus shrugged a bit, and said, "I don't know. I assume it was just a poor bloke who lost his way in the woods and couldn't find a safe place in time. But my dad always gets very angry when I say I feel bad for the man. He says I should never feel anything for him."

Another silence came, and Sirius turned away.

"And I can understand if you guys want to steer clear of me," Remus said. "After all, I tried to kill you."

"We're not going anywhere," Sirius said all of a sudden, and James looked at him, surprised. But Sirius had that set look in his eye, and he was now gripping the bedpost. "We're going to find a way for it not to hurt you so much."

"What?" Peter squeaked.

"I've been reading up on it," Sirius said thoughtfully, "and I've got an idea. If everyone's game."

"I'm in," James said.

"Me too, I guess," Peter said, somewhat reluctant.

Remus smiled and nodded. "All right, what do you have in mind?"


	18. Chapter 17: The Week of the Dark Mark

**CHAPTER 17 **

**The Week of the Dark Mark **

The next day, Sirius took them all into the library (Madam Pince almost had an ulcer as they stepped in the door) and pulled out a book in the Transfiguration section.

"You know how Professor McGonagall can turn into a cat?" Sirius said, scanning through the books. "Well, that's because she's an Animagus."

"A what?" Peter asked.

"It means that she can turn into an animal at will," James clarified.

"It takes a lot of skill to become one," Sirius said, taking a book off of the shelf and walking towards an empty seat. "Hardly anyone can handle it. Only seven have been registered in this century, one of them being Professor McGonagall."

"What are you getting to, Sirius?" Remus took a seat as Sirius opened the book and scanned the table of contents.

"I have a question, Remus," Sirius said. "Can werewolves hurt animals?"

"No," Remus said. "I accidentally bit my cat once, and she was perfectly fine."

"Perfect." Sirius pointed to the page, and read aloud, "_Animagi are extremely rare, and only some of the best wizards on earth are known to be able to handle the spell_. But look, there's instructions here on how to teach yourself. It looks fairly hard. What are you thinking, James? Two or three years to learn it?"

"I'd say at least four," James interjected, looking at the spell.

"What are you guys talking about?" Remus was very confused, and it looked like Peter was, too.

"You're not going to be by yourself anymore," James said. "We're coming with you."

"What?" he exclaimed. "Are you out of your minds?"

"Don't worry, Remus," Sirius said, turning the page. "We're not going to be humans."

"Then what are you going to be?"

Sirius got that sly smile on his face, and he turned the book around to show Remus. Remus peered down at the colorful picture staring back at him. It showed a diagram of a man turning into a horse.

"You are out of your minds," Remus said, shoving the book away. "There is no possible way that three second year students are going to be able to do it right without something going wrong."

"What could possibly go wrong?" Sirius said, looking at the picture.

"Why do you think they keep tabs on Animagi?" Remus asked. "Because the transformations can mess up. You could end up half lizard and half human for the rest of your life!"

"Oh, stop worrying," he said, and flipped the page again, "Me and James are getting top marks now, and we can help Peter along. It won't be that difficult. Plus you'll be loads of help."

"It's dangerous, too dangerous," Remus argued.

"You remember how the wolf disappeared when you were with me?" James interrupted, looking straight at Remus. "You remember how you had control? It seems that when you get around people that you know, and trust --- you start to take over. You'll have control if we're there with you. Don't you want to fight it?"

Remus was quiet, and he then slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."

"Good," Sirius said as he flipped the page again. "We start tonight. With a little luck we can maybe get it down by our seventh year."

"Do we get to pick our animals?" Peter asked eagerly.

"No, it says here the form chooses the wizard," Remus said. "So it isn't up to you, I'm afraid."

"Wonder what I'll be," Sirius smiled. "Maybe a dragon."

"Okay, it says that to begin the transformation," James said, "you must clear your mind of all distractions and humanly things. Then we have to see ourselves, and think very hard about no one and nothing but ourselves."

"That won't be hard for you," Sirius laughed, balancing on two legs on his chair.

"Shut up," James said, and he continued reading. "If everything goes as planned, we'll turn into the animal, and be free to wander around Hogwarts. You can stay in that animal shape for however long you'd like."

"Sounds like a cinch," Sirius remarked.

"But it's not." James turned the page, and pointed at a very gruesome picture. Sirius, Remus, and Peter leaned over to take a look at it, and their eyes grew big as they were faced with an illustration of what they thought could have been a man (or a llama) at some point in time.

"Ugh!" Remus said, turning away.

"That's disgusting!" said Sirius.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Peter said, holding his stomach.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Remus said, looking pretty pale himself.

"It is," James said, shutting the book, "and it will work. We stick together. I know that you would do the same for any one of us, Remus."

Sirius nodded weakly, and Remus sighed. "Well, good luck. That's all I've got to say."

""""""""""""""""

That night, they ran up to their dormitory room earlier than usual. Remus was eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans on his bed, watching his three friends pouring over the book. They had moved the beds to the side of the walls, to give themselves room to "transform," if the spell worked. None of them knew exactly what they were getting into, or what would happen. But they were willing to risk it.

"Okay," James said, "I'll go first, just to make sure it's safe and all. Here, Remus." He handed the book to his friend on the bed. "Read off the directions slowly to me. You guys step back."

Sirius gave a snort, and they took a seat on Peter's bed.

"All right," Remus said, scanning the page. "It says for the first time, close your eyes," James closed his eyes, "and relax. You're not relaxing."

"How can you expect him to relax? He may end up half turtle and half sardine for all we know," Sirius interjected.

"Next, you have to put everything out of your head, and think only of yourself. Only of your personality. It helps to answer questions like, 'What is my favorite color,' 'what sort of food do I like,' personal things like that," Remus said. "It says that the more sense of self you have, the better it works."

James nodded, and took a breath in and out. The other three watched as they waited for a smoke of magic light and a cat to be sitting there. But nothing happened.

"Now what?" James asked, opening one eye.

"Um --- let me see ---" Remus turned the page, and kept reading. "Well, it says to focus on your animal --- but you have no idea what your animal is, so I guess that this isn't going to work."

"There must be a way," James said. "Everyone does it the first time without knowing what sort of thing they're turning into."

"Hey, I know," Sirius said. "What if we asked Professor McGonagall how she turned into a cat?"

"Yeah!" James said, snapping his fingers in delight. "But we'll have to wait until tomorrow. It's ten at night."

"Yeah." Remus shut the book and held his every-flavored beans out. "Anyone care to try the toe jam flavored one?"

"""""""""""""""""""

Transfiguration seemed to drag on forever. Finally, the end of class came, and they were dismissed. Remus had been chosen to ask Professor McGonagall, since she had taken a liking to him.

He quietly walked to her desk and cleared his throat. "Er, Professor? Could I ask you something?"

"Why, certainly, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk. She had just transformed a mouse into a tea kettle for a demonstration.

"Well, I'm doing a report for --- one of my other classes --- and we're learning about --- about the most difficult spells to perform. And so I was doing some of my homework, and I was reading about Animagi." Professor McGonagall looked more attentive. "And I know that you're an Animagus, and so I was wondering if I can clarify something with you."

"What is it?"

"Well, I was reading that to transform, you need to concentrate on the form of that animal. But what about the first time, when you don't know which animal you are to transform into?"

Professor McGonagall smiled and said, "Very excellent question, Mr. Lupin." She put the mouse/kettle away and sat down behind her desk. "Most wizards know what their animal is by whatever form their Patronus takes."

"But what if they haven't produced a Patronus?"

"Well, that was my problem when I began to study the craft," Professor McGonagall said. "You see, you must know what your animal is. You must be so in tune with yourself and your wants and desires, and your personality, that you understand which form the spell will give you. Many adult wizards have tried to acquaint themselves with themselves, and have failed. It is a rare thing that someone can become an Animagus."

"Oh. Well, thank you, Professor," Remus said.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Lupin. Oh, and Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said as Remus walked to the door, "Professor Snorks and Professor Sprout will not be accompanying you to the tree anymore. It will be Madam Pomfrey from now on that comes to fetch you."

"All right," Remus said, his mind on other things at the moment. "That's fine."

"""""""""""""""""""""""

"Get to know ourselves?" Sirius barked as Remus told them what to do that night. "Why would I want to get to know myself?"

"You have to for the spell to work. You have to know what your animal is. Either that, or conjure a Patronus, whatever that is."

"Lemme give it a shot," James said, and stood again in the middle of the room.

"Actually, I think it might be best if Sirius does it. He seems to be more capable of it," Remus suggested, and Sirius' jaw dropped as he looked at Remus.

"What?" he said.

"Fine, get up there and start soul-searching," James said, pushing Sirius to the middle of the floor.

Sirius stood there for a few minutes, and then closed his eyes. This was mad, he concluded. This was just crazy --- lunacy ---

"Do you know your animal, yet?" Remus asked hopefully.

"No," Sirius growled. "No, I don't."

"I think this is going to take a while," James sighed, and he lay on his bed.

"""""""""""""

And it did. Halloween and Christmas passed in the blink of an eye, and soon enough, it was second term of their second year. Nothing had come of anything, and usually the transformation attempts turned into social hour between the four boys. It wasn't until months later did they finally calm down enough to attempt the practicing.

Still, summer hit, and none of them could see their animal in their mind's eye. James had declared one night that he was a hawk, and had concentrated very hard on the visual image of himself soaring through the sky. But alas that was not his animal, and he gave up.

It was June, and exams were upon them, coming even closer. Again, Professor F dully said that he had not the time or energy to continue his job, and another teacher would be taking his place.

Caught up in the excitement of Remus's secret and their attempts to transform, they had forgotten about the rally that had taken place over the holidays, as they found out from Sirius's cousin who had been whispering to her friend.

"My mother left just this morning," she said.

But that was the only news that they had gotten. Until one unexpected Monday morning, when the Daily Prophet landed in front of Sirius. On the front page was a picture of a house, demolished, and a sort of symbol floating above it, shining in green light. It was a skull, with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

The headline read: _Masked Figures Murder Family of Three!_

"What is that?" James said, pointing at the picture.

"Oh my God," Sirius said, reading on. "The Callings. They live two streets down from us. They were a couple of Muggles who had a witch for a daughter. She went to Hogwarts a few years ago, and --- they're dead."

"What?" Remus said, scanning the story. "They're dead? How could they be dead?"

"_Authorities say that the Avada Kedavra curse could be to blame_," Sirius read aloud. "_They also believe that the symbol above the house may have been left by a group that is thought to be led by certain individual by the name of 'Voldemort.' Upon investigating the remains of the house, an anonymous message was written upon the rubble. It read 'Lord Voldemort shall reign. [Muggle - borns beware_.' _Sources have informed the Daily Prophet that the murderers disappeared late last night, and should be considered dangerous. He is likely not alone."_

"So it's started," James said, "and we didn't do anything about it."

"We're kids, James," Sirius said. "What are we supposed to do? Dungbomb them to death?"

"We have to do something, Sirius," James said. "I mean, who's going to be next? It could be my family, or Remus's, or Peter's."

"Why not Sirius's?" Peter asked.

"'Cause my family's the sort that aren't into defending Mud --- I mean, Muggle-borns."

"My parents refused Klein's offer, Sirius," James said, and looked nervously back at the picture. "That could be my house any day now. And what about Remus? Klein knows what he is. And his dad's a Muggle-born. He's a candidate, too, you know."

"My family's pureblood," Peter said proudly.

"Bully for you," Sirius growled.

"I'm not just going to sit around here and do nothing. There must be something we can do. At least tell Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall what we heard that night. You know, with Snape and Klein?" James said.

"I don't think Klein's the only teacher that's turned," Remus said, looking up at the High table. Slughorn was leaning over Snorks's empty chair, laughing wholeheartedly with the Headmaster.

"What?"

"Well, you remember when Snorks said that he was going to visit some friends?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah ---"

"Well then, there you go," Remus said. "Not much to go on, but I just have a wrong feeling about all this."

"Come on, Remus," Sirius snorted, waving a hand at Snorks. "Have you seen him! He's harmless! The worst he ever did to anyone was give them an extra page of homework! I mean, I can see Klein. He was just plain evil. But Snorks?"

"Yes, Snorks," Remus retorted. "It isn't just evil people that don't like us half-bloods. There are others."

"But --- Snorks?" Sirius repeated.

"And others," Remus continued, looking up at the table. "You know most of the Slytherins' families were there at the rally. You named a lot of them, Sirius. Old wizarding families that no one would ever say a bad word about. Even Darryl's family was involved."

"Blimey, I knew there was something rotten about that kid," James muttered to himself.

"So you're saying it's a conspiracy?" Peter whispered, frightened.

"More than a conspiracy," Remus said, growing quieter. "I'd say it was a full out genocide."

The boys grew quiet, and then Remus's eyes flew back down to the paper. "This is just the beginning. I can feel it. There's more to come."

"""""""""""""""""""""

Dumbledore seemed to have lost that twinkle in his eye after the murder of the Callers. As Remus had predicted, there was a long stream of mysterious killings that week, all families that were not of pure blood. The Ministry of Magic was in a panic, and James was becoming very worried.

"What if they come to my house?" he whispered to Sirius through passing period. "What if I go home and that --- that thing --- is hanging over my house?"

"It won't be," Sirius said, not so sure he was telling the truth.

The last week of school was not an enjoyable one. Everyone was on ends about the killings. The supporters of Lord Voldemort had announced on another cryptic message (this time on a wall in the Warwicks' house) that their name was the Death Eaters, and that they were growing in number. _Soon we will cover this world with our numbers,_ it read.

"I guess Knights of Walpurgis wasn't working for them," Sirius said, folding the paper back into place.

To get their mind off of the current events, James had concluded that they should take another trip under the Cloak before they packed up to head home.

"Just to get our mind off of things," he said, taking his prized possession out of the trunk and unfolding it.

The four of them climbed out of the Fat Lady's portrait and made their way down the halls, heading for the kitchen. Upon arriving, they found Snorks's supply of midnight snacks, and had devoured them all when the door brushed open and three figures entered the room. It was Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Snorks.

The boys hid in the pantry out of sight, even if their Cloak was draped over them.

"Any more news, Frederick?" Dumbledore's quiet voice came.

"No, only that they're getting ready for another rally sometime soon. His numbers are growing quickly. And he's branded us with these." Snorks's robes ruffled. Professor McGonagall gave a small gasp.

"You've sacrificed more than your share, Frederick," Dumbledore said admiringly, and then he continued on with business. "And what is Voldemort doing at this time?"

"Well, I only heard one conversation between him and one of his followers. They advised that he took Hogwarts under his control, but he refused to attack the school. He said something about the Headmaster." Snorks laughed. "Imagine, the 'Dark Lord' scared of you."

"I have met Tom before," Dumbledore said. "He was my student years ago. I taught him well, I see."

There was a silence, and then Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Well, Frederick, we have detained you long enough. I have some magnificent treacle in my office if you would like to join me for some."

"Oh, no thank you, Albus," Snorks said, "I better be getting along back to my own office. Busy day tomorrow, what with all the work to catch up on."

"Yes, quite. You know, I sometimes miss teaching in the classroom. I loved their faces when I assigned them entire encyclopedias to write," Dumbledore said.

And then there were more footsteps, and the shutting of a door.

"I thought this little adventure was supposed to get our minds off the Death Eaters," Sirius said, throwing the Cloak off of him.

"I was wrong," Remus said, smiling and following Sirius into the clear. "Snorks isn't bad after all. He's spying for Dumbledore."

"I told you he was too --- cheery --- to ever be one of Voldemort's minions," Sirius said.


	19. Chapter 18: Padfoot's Birth

**CHAPTER 18 **

**Padfoot's Birth **

Sirius was back home in a week, and had begun the horrible summer of torture for the second time. His cousins did not visit them this year, and there was no word from any relatives whatsoever. His parents didn't say one word about the Death Eaters, and it was relatively quiet for a while. That is, until one day, when a letter came from James.

_Sirius:_

Find a Daily Prophet. The Hodgings were attacked this morning. They live in Ottery St. Catchpole. And they're dead. The attacks are growing.

James

Sirius wasn't as heroic as James. He actually didn't want to think about the attacks anymore. They gave him a headache, and every time they came to mind, he realized that while he, a Black, was safe from harm, some of his friends would not be.

Regulus was to begin school with him in the fall. And for an eleven year old, he was especially nasty. Sirius could hardly stand to be around him for more than five minute's time. His mother and father had decided that they could win some of their dignity back by having their youngest son placed into Slytherin, so they bought Regulus everything that he would need for Hogwarts and more. Slytherin robes, Slytherin scarves --- everything that had a snake on it, or the word _Slytherin_ on the front.

Of course, Sirius almost had his brother beat with the two years' worth of a collection in Gryffindor paraphernalia. He had slapped them all over his own room's walls in a way to be sure his mother and father would never be able to remove them. Regulus, of course, sneered at this every time he walked past his room.

"Where dwell the brave at heart," he said one day as Sirius looked up from a particularly hard chapter in his new Care of Magical Creatures textbook, "Too bad there's no brain to go with that brave. Sort of makes it useless, eh? Oi!"

And Regulus ran out of sight, a bump forming on his head where the Magical Creatures book had smacked him.

The Hodgings had been attacked. An elderly couple that had had a Muggle son "working as an accountant," the Prophet reported, had been killed on that night in July.

Following the Hodgings were the Harpers, the Griswalds, and the Edners. Yet the Ministry was doing nothing, it seemed like. The most that they had done was put posters all over Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley with the faces of known rioters. Lord Voldemort, of course, always headed the page. And underneath him could be found three or four faces of unknown wizards.

There was no news from Lupin, and after the one letter about the Hodgings, James only sent positive notes, reminding him to practice the Animagus spells, and to keep out of his loving family's way.

Finally, August had come, and the four friends' third year was coming closer and closer.

On the first day of the September, his mother and father, along with Regulus, walked with him to King's Cross, and passed through Platform 9 ¾. Regulus was a walking mascot, donned in his Slytherin apparel. He soon found Narcissa and her gaggle of friends and began to introduce himself.

"You should be more like your brother, Sirius," Mrs. Black scolded. "He has no trouble making the right sort of friends."

"Hey, Sirius!"

Sirius turned his head to look at Remus, who was standing with his own set of parents on the other side of the platform. He groaned as his mother and father turned as well to look at who was yelling.

Sirius waved, noticing that Remus was holding his case that sported a Gryffindor lion on it. Oh, wouldn't his parents be so pleased with him?

They didn't say another word to him, and shooed Regulus onto the train. Sirius, as if in a daze, dragged himself to the compartment being saved by Peter again ("I asked Dung if he wanted to sit with us, but he said no."), and said hello to James, who was already sitting there quietly.

"Hello," he said, putting on a smile.

It was another minute or two before Remus appeared and took his usual seat next to Peter. "Bertha Jorkins reckons she knows what Darryl's little secret is," Remus said slyly. "She was telling me all about a bladder problem that she heard about from the first years that room with him."

"I knew it," Sirius said.

"""""""""""""""

The feast whizzed by, the four of them waiting for the night to come, when they would be free to try their hand at transforming again. Finally, the sun set, and they found themselves back in the dormitory, pushing the beds out of the way.

"I'll go," James volunteered, and closed his eyes yet again.

There was a pause, but nothing seemed to happen.

"You're not concentrating," Remus scolded.

"Of course I'm concentrating," James hissed. "I'm doing everything that the stupid book said to do-"

"Let me give it a try," Sirius said, and he shoved James out of the way. He had had more practice at getting to know himself this summer, due to the lack of anyone else trying to. He closed his eyes, and thought about his life. He heard Remus's voice in the background, almost silent, as he shut out the world around him.

He was Sirius Black. Best friend to James Potter. The trouble maker of the school. He was best at Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was in Gryffindor House, and his parents hated that fact. Regulus had been sorted into Slytherin this evening, and had brought back the family name. His parents were going to hate him even more for not being just like his ever loving brother. He hated his house. He hated his family. He hated Narcissa and her sister. He hated his surname. He hated what it stood for. He hated he couldn't do anything against them! He hated that he was thirteen, and that there was nothing that he could do to help Dumbledore! He hated Regulus for getting into Slytherin! He hated James for having such a perfect family! He hated Remus for what he was! He-

A dog.

Sirius started. He jumped back with surprise.

"What? What is it?" James's voice was so far away. He couldn't hear it now.

He was Sirius Black. He had black hair and pale skin. He was too tall. He had never sat down and had a decent conversation with his-

A black dog.

"What the bloody hell ---" Sirius whispered.

"What's going on?" Remus whispered to James. James shrugged.

He was Sirius Black ---

A black dog. He was a large, black dog.

"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!" Sirius shouted, trying to break out of his daze. "I KNOW WHAT IT IS!"

"Shhh! Sirius, do you want to wake up the entire-"

"I'M A DOG! I'M A DOG!"

Hands shook him, and his eyes snapped open. James was standing in front of him, nervously pulling him back to reality. But Sirius just smiled and patted him on the back. "Your turn, James. I did my homework."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

It wasn't until a few days before Halloween that James was able to see his own animal, or even a hint of it. Remus was very reluctant to believe that James was actually succeeding at what Sirius had achieved. So far, James had declared that he was a hawk, a tiger, a lion, a bear, and who could forget the slug?

Finally, James stood very still, closed his eyes, and swore to himself that he was going to do it this time. He thought long and hard, and the three friends waited for him to announce his animal hysterically, as Sirius had. But alas, he spent a good hour saying nothing at all. Finally, he gripped his wand, and squinted, and then his face fell to a frown. He quietly sat back down on the bed, and sighed. "You're never going to believe this one."

"What? What is it?" Sirius asked.

James looked at him in utter disappointment and groaned, "I'm a ruddy deer."

"What?"

"You know, those big deer with the antlers?" James said.

"You mean a stag?" Remus corrected.

"Yeah," James said, thinking that a tiger would have been a lot more fun.


	20. Chapter 19: Snape's Hungarian Horntail

**CHAPTER 19 **

**Snape's Hungarian Horntail **

The marauders had done it again. They had come up with yet another mastermind prank for Halloween, and this time they would not allow themselves to get caught. Ever since their first year, they had made a pact that they would never ever get caught again.

Last Halloween, they had been so involved with Remus's secret that they had forgotten to plot anything at all. This year, they decided to make up for lost time. And this year, they had an extra hand on board.

"The full moon doesn't come up until November the first," Remus had announced happily, looking in the back of their astronomy book. "I'm free to go."

"Good," James said, and he went back to the map of the school that he had bought from a seventh year.

Yet it seemed as if someone was on their trail. Good old Severus Snape was quite aware that the four of them were up to something, and he seemed to be everywhere they were. They knew he was just waiting to get them in trouble.

So they decided to incorporate him into their fun.

On Halloween, the students filed into the Great Hall as usual, and began feasting. Everyone was accounted for, except for Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. No one thought much of it, since Sirius and James were happily gulping down goblets of pumpkin juice next to Dung and Davey at the Gryffindor table. Everyone knew that their two other accomplices wouldn't dare try anything without the two masterminds.

Oh, how they were wrong.

"Just grab it, Peter!" Remus hissed from the doorway.

"I can't reach it!"

"Cut the string!"

"I told you, I can't reach it!"

Remus sighed and crossed the room to where Peter was balancing on the top of a desk. They were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and above them was a large skeleton of a Hungarian Horntail.

"Come on, now," Remus said, kneeling down. "Get on my back."

Peter stumbled over to Remus, who was now perched upon the desk as well, and hoisted himself up onto his shoulders.

"Oi! You should look into that diet!"

"Geroff!"

"Don't talk! Cut the stupid thing!"

"Whose idea was this anyway?"

Peter took his wand, and pointed at the small string that was keeping the skeleton aloft.

"_Diffindo_," he whispered, and the string became broken in the middle. The dragon fell to the ground, missing the two boys by inches.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," Remus said, taking out his own wand and pointing it at the pile of bones. All of a sudden, the skeleton rose into the air and snapped alive.

"_Animato!"_ he whispered, and the dragon thrust its bony skull towards the ceiling. Its wings began to beat, and its mouth opened.

"_Animato les cafetorium_," he said, and the dragon sped off out the door and down the corridor.

"It worked," Peter said in amazement. "I can't believe it worked."

"Just wait," Remus said, "it gets better."

"ACK! POTTER!"

There was a commotion outside the doorway, and Snivellus's voice could be heard echoing through the corridors.

"What's he doing here?" Peter squeaked.

"He's being Snivellus," Remus said, running to the exit, and then adding. "James reckoned he'd follow us. Try to get us into trouble ---"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"They're late," Sirius said, checking his watch. "It should have happened twenty minutes ago."

"Just watch the front door," James said. "They're coming."

And all of a sudden, the oak doors to the Great Hall burst open, and the High Table rose to their feet, staring at the sight charging towards them. Severus Snape, riding a twenty foot long Hungarian Horntail skeleton that was now parading through the Hall and circling the Slytherin table, snapping at Lucius Malfoy and his friends. Snape was screaming at the top of his lungs, and Dumbledore raised his wand to stop the dragon. But it was too late. The skeleton skidded to a halt in front of the High Table, bowed, and then made a crude gesture to the teachers. Professor McGonagall gasped. The skeleton then dropped into a pile on the floor, leaving Snape in a heap, robes flung over his head.

"SEVERUS SNAPE!" Professor McGonagall said, rising to her feet next to Dumbledore. "HOW DARE YOU-"

"What?" Snape said, trying to stand. The entire school was laughing.

"Severus, what did you mean to accomplish by this?" Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon glasses at the flustered third year.

"I --- me?! It was James Potter! It wasn't me!" Snivellus defended himself.

Dumbledore's eyes fixed on him, as if sure that this boy had gone quite mad.

"Mr. Snape," Professor McGonagall stepped in, "Mr. Potter is sitting behind you, next to Mr. Black. He has been there all evening. I have been keeping a close eye on them."

"You didn't have to do that, Professor," Sirius called from his seat.

"Quiet, Mr. Black!" she snapped.

"You have just ridden a twenty foot dragon into the Great Hall," Dumbledore said, "and you say that you should not be accused?"

"It wasn't me! They-" Snape turned toward Sirius and James, who were trying not to laugh. "You." He glared at James. "You cocky little ---"

"We will discuss this in private," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, could you please escort Mr. Snape to-"

The doors flung open again, and the attention swerved towards the new guest to the feast. James was half expecting Peter or Remus to be standing there, laughing their heads off. But instead, it was Hagrid, wearing his raincoat and soaked.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid shouted across the Hall for all to hear.

"What is it, Hagrid?" Dumbledore looked slightly peeved, which wasn't like him. But who could blame him; this was the second interruption to his feast.

"An owl just arrived from the Ministry, sir," Hagrid said, walking down the aisle and to the High Table. He stepped over Snape and the skeleton, and handed a green letter to Dumbledore. "I think you should read it."

Dumbledore took the letter from Hagrid and opened it. James and Sirius looked at each other. Why were they doing this in front of the whole school? The other students were looking quite taken aback as well as they stared at the Headmaster and the Transfiguration professor reading the letter. Professor McGonagall's face turned very pale, and she put a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, Albus," she whispered.

Dumbledore, solemnly looking past the letter and into nothingness, said quietly, "He is the first of us to fall."

Then, very slowly, he turned to the student body, waiting to hear what all this was about. Professor McGonagall took his shoulder, and he shooed her away.

"They must know," Dumbledore said calmly, and then he set the letter on the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, sad news comes from the Ministry of Magic tonight. It is my regret to say that Professor Frederick Snorks was killed earlier this evening by Death Eaters."

The Hall fell silent. James felt time stop all around him. They all looked to Dumbledore for more to come. It took a few minutes for him to continue though, and when he did, it was in the gravest tone.

"Most of you have noticed the ongoing events of this last summer," Dumbledore said. "Some of you have been personally affected, and others have not felt the outcome yet. I stand here today, holding the letter that told of one man's fate. The world is a terrible place, children. I call you children because that is what you are. You have not fended for yourselves, you have not felt the terrible blows that life gives you. But as we speak, there is hatred and prejudice residing in our world's heart." He gave a look to all four of the House tables, so divided --- so separate. "Now a man can make a difference in the world, even if it is a small one. We all have fates, including myself. We can choose to make that fate one that will bring hope, or one that will bring destruction. Times are changing, and we must grow the wiser for it. So now I must encourage you --- I must beg you --- that when you leave these school walls and enter this world-" he pointed to the haunting green letter, "-to not be as idiotic and imbecilic as the generation before you. That is all. Prefects, please escort students back to the dormitories."

The tone was very silent as the prefects stood and quietly ushered everyone out of the Hall, up the marble staircase, and to their common rooms.


	21. Chapter 20: Quidditch Tryouts

**CHAPTER 20 **

**Quidditch Tryouts **

The school was very sullen for a few days, and Lily Evans could be seen crying outside the Potions room after seeing the new teacher arrive. Her name was Professor Hall, and she was a lively old hag that enjoyed talking about her four Kneazles at home. Their names, as James found out quickly, were Ruffins, Hugo, Dolly, and Wheezy. Her students said she had their pictures hung everywhere around the Arithmancy room, and no one could turn without coming face to face with one of their catlike faces.

Professor McGonagall didn't assign homework for a few days, and her class was filled with assignments from the book. Remus, who had heard of the incident from Sirius and James that Halloween night, tried to give her a comforting smile before leaving. James tried to follow his example, but she wouldn't even look at them.

But as all things do with time, Hogwarts healed from the loss of Professor Snorks. He was never forgotten, no, but life continued.

Quidditch tryouts were to be held on the next Thursday, and James found himself talking of nothing but the sport. He checked out every book that he could find with the word "Quidditch" written on it, and poured over them every night. Sirius and him looked through magazine piles, reading interviews with Ludo Bagman on how to become better at bludger aims.

"Blimey, this isn't going to help me," James said, turning the page, "I want to be a Keeper, not a Beater."

"Hey, don't be picky, Potter," Sirius said, "You'll be lucky to get on the team at your age anyway. Did you see their keeper last year? Huge brute, he was --- must have been half giant or something."

Finally, Thursday night came, and James grabbed his Cleansweep 2 and rushed outside with Sirius behind him. His stomach flipped when he saw the stands of the Quidditch pitch. There was Lily Evans, sittting daintily on a bench, looking at the crowding group of hopeful players.

"Hey, Evans! What are you doing here?" James shouted as he stepped onto the field.

Lily looked up, surprised to see him looking at her. But she recovered herself nicely, and said, "I'm watching my boyfriend tonight. You know Darryl, don't you?"

Sirius's mouth dropped as Darryl Avery turned around to face them, smirking. James felt an anger boil up inside him.

"Are --- what?!"

"It's not physically possible!" Sirius whispered in awe.

"Wow, Evans, I didn't know you were that desperate," James said, starting to laugh.

Lily's face turned red, and Sirius joined in the laughter. Darryl frowned, and went back to talking to a second year friend of his.

"All right, all right, break it up."

A very large and muscular boy came charging onto the field, adjusting his riding gloves, "Stand in a straight line, and don't talk."

"See ya," Sirius said, striding toward the stands.

"As most of you know, I'm Dennis Berster, and one of the Chasers for this team," Dennis said, pacing in front of them, "The positions open for this year are Chaser and Beater. Yes, Potter?"

"What about Keeper?"

"No, we've got our Keeper for this season."

"Who is it?"

"Hugo Dashings, a fifth year," Dennis said, "He's been on the team since second year."

Darsing had just arrived and was now taking a seat next to Sirius, and said guhdae to him.

"I believe that we're just going to play a game, rotating positions so you all get a chance," Dennis said, "Potter, Opinheimer, and Warwick start as Chaser, Avery, you're Seeker, and Kelper, you're Keeper. Bludgings and Greasings, Beaters. Bridgings and Abbot, you wait here for a moment."

The seven swooped into the air, and James felt his heart leap again. He was free. He was home.

"Potter, here's the Quaffle," Dennis shouted, and James caught the heavy ball in his hand as he soared higher. He passed it to Warwick, and zoomed over to the highest goalpost. Warwick passed it back, and James caught it. Without thinking, he shot the ball into the hoop, and scored.

"Very nice, Potter," Dennis commented, and then said, "Abbot, trade places with Avery. Avery, you should have been on that play."

Avery glared, and Abbot shot up towards James. Just as Sirius was leaning back to see how James would welcome this new player, Sirius caught a very tempting sight in the corner of his eye. Snivellus Snape had just arrived to take a seat next to Lily. He was in a very sour mood, but his mood brightened a bit when he saw Darryl Avery sulking back to the sidelines of the pitch.

"Thanks for coming with me," Lily said to him as he brushed his robes smooth, "You really didn't need to."

"Oi! No Slytherins on the pitch, you greasy hairball!" Sirius barked, and Snape's head twitched around to come face to face with him. Both boys glared.

"Less talking! We're in the middle of a tryout here!" Dennis shouted down to the three of them.

He threw the ball to Abbot, and James motioned for him to pass it to him. No such luck. Abbot just smiled, and zoomed off to the closest goalpoast. He aimed, and ---

WHAM!

Down in the stands, Sirius's fist connected with Snivellus's head, and Snivellus fell to the ground, unconscious. Lily jumped from her seat in one great leap, ran to him, and then looked back to Sirius murderously.

"What is wrong with you lot!" she shouted, now trying to support Snape's head in her lap, "You're such a load of dung, Sirius!"

"He's out cold, Darsing, ma'am," Avery said, coming to Lily's side, "Someone should take him to the hospital wing."

"Nah, hah's fahne," Darsing shooed a hand towards him, "Ah've had wahse injahries. Jus' puht sahme ahce ahn hahs fahhade."

"What?" Lily said, as Snape groaned and came to.

As Lily helped him up and headed for the infirmary, Sirius went to sweet-talking Darsing in hopes to avoid a detention (this ploy seemed to be working) and Dennis was complementing Greasings on his bludger-hitting abilities. Greasings was a large fourth year with arms like tree trunks. He sorely reminded James of Snorks.

"Great aim. Haven't seen anyone hit it that good since Bagman in the World Cup a few years ago," he said, "Bridgings, you're in for Abbot."

A girl who was in the same year as James took hold of her broom and flew into the game.

"Potter, take the ball," he said, throwing it back into the air.

James grabbed it, and then, without passing it or even looking at the other players, zipped past them and threw it through the smallest hoop.

"Amazing, Potter! Amazing!" Dennis said, "I haven't seen anyone fly that fast since Warhash in the match against Bulgaria in '69. Amazing!"

James beamed, and looked down to Sirius. Sirius, who was back to leaning on the bleachers, gave him a thumbs up.

The Quidditch team was to be listed in the common room that night. Of course, only two hopefuls would be picked. One for Beater, and one for Chaser. Everyone knew that the Beater would be Greasings. After he had pelted one good at Darryl's head toward the end of tryouts, he had become the hero of Gryffindor Tower. As for James, everyone was telling him that he was a shoe-in for Chaser, but he didn't know if they were being nice or truthful.

Sirius seemed to think that there was no question about it.

The four of them waited patiently for the list to come out, and finally Dennis, beaming, emerged from his room and posted the roster for the 1973- 1974 Gryffindor team.

There was a frantic huddle around the posting board while people read the names. Sirius stood up, and shoved all of them aside. James covered his eyes, not wanting to look. Finally, Sirius jumped over the back of the couch, and plopped down next to James. He didn't look too pleased.

"What?" James asked, "What happened? Tell me. Did I make it? Did I get it?"

"I'm sorry, Potter," he said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean you're sorry?" he replied desperately, "I didn't get on? How could they do this to me?"

"It's a tragedy," Sirius said, leaning back in his seat, "That you didn't get Keeper."

James eyed him, "I mean, you got Chaser instead," his friend finished.

All of the boys jumped up from the couch and excitedly ran back to the roster. Sure enough, there was James Potter, Chaser, listed right under Orlick Greasings, Beater.

"Congratulations," Remus said, patting him on the back. He just laughed a bit, and shaking off his anxiety, only said:

"Of course I'd make it. Wasn't worried in the slightest!"

There was a bit of a huffed scoff that sounded from behind the heads of his admirers, and this bit of disapproval seemed to cancel out all the adoring fans that he found himself surrounded with. James looked beyond Sirius, Remus, and Peter's smiling faces to see a very angry Lily Evans, grabbing her books and heading up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"Evans!" he tried to sound, but she didn't hear him. Either that, or she pretended she couldn't.

""""""""""""""""""""

Due to the loss of Snorks, all Quidditch matches had been postponed until after the holidays out of respect. James knew for a fact that this would have made Snorks very angry, since he was the biggest Chudley Cannons fan that the wizarding world had ever seen. But alas, he didn't make the rules. He just broke them.

Sirius had tried to avoid Regulus the entire term, but now that they were going back for the holidays, he didn't know if he could stand it any longer. Finally, he decided to write his parents and beg them not to let him come home for Christmas. James told Sirius that his parents were also writing a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Black. He thought that the struggle was hopeless. But still a response came, and it was in his father's handwriting. Sirius had to reread it to make sure that he was reading it correctly.

"I --- I can go," Sirius said, showing James the letter.

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, they gave me permission." He smiled and gave out a laugh that sounded like a bark. "Way to go, James's parents!"

James returned the laugh, and they spent the rest of their meal talking about the amazing adventures they were to have the next week.

Snape was even angrier at James and Sirius after his own tryouts for the Slytherin team. It seemed as if he had taken a Bludger to the face very early on, and they hadn't given him a second chance. He hadn't been put on his roster, and it looked like he never would. And because of this, James wouldn't let him hear the end of it.

In retaliation, he had made it his life goal to catch the two of them red-handed in the midst of a prank. But, as the boys' oath told them not to get caught, this never happened. Their most remembered escapade still was the bubble gum Peeves and, coming in runner up, the skeleton of the dragon. Everyone had figured out that it had been them along with Remus and Peter. Sadly, though, there wasn't enough evidence to punish them, and the teachers alone had concluded that it had been Snape. He had gotten a month's worth of detentions, and he had to piece the skeleton bone by bone back together for the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.

The day before they left, they tried once more to get Peter to see his animal. He had shut his eyes tightly and sat there, his face turning purple, for about an hour, before announcing that he had no idea and that he should give up.

"Keep working on it over the holidays," James said. "And buck up. You'll get it."

"It would be good if you two at least started to go on to the next stage," Remus said haughtily. "The transformations are getting worse." He pointed to a scar on his chin.

"We're going, we're going," Sirius said. "Don't be so pushy."

Wormtail curled up on Peter's lap, looking for some place warm. As he stroked his rat, Peter wondered aloud, "If only I knew what animal I was. I'm holding you guys up."

""""""""""""""

The next morning, they awoke with excitement. James and Sirius would be the only two going home this year. Remus had decided to stay after his parents wrote him a letter telling him that they were doing some cleaning around the house, and Peter had never gone home for the holidays.

Remus helped the two of them pack and walked them out into the corridor.

"Have a great time," he said. "And don't worry about me," he added to James as the rest of the group walked away. "Full moon doesn't happen until New Year's Eve. I'm going to have a Christmas."

"That's good news," he said, and shook hands with him. "And get Peter to see his animal while we're gone. How many more spells do we have after this one?"

"Two," Remus sighed. "I haven't read up on it yet, but they look pretty difficult."

James's face fell. "Well, we're trying our best, mate."

"I know you are," he replied, and he looked back to the Fat Lady. "Well, I better get going."

"Yeah."

""""""""""""

"Okay, so you get to be a dog, and I get to be a deer," James said, biting into an apple. They were sitting in Sirius's new whitewashed room. To his delight, the pink and frills had disappeared, and blank walls stared at him from all corners.

"I guess so," he replied.

"I don't get it," James said, "I really don't. I mean, if I asked you what sort of animal I'd be, the first name that comes to your mind isn't a deer, is it?"

"It's better than the slug," Sirius said coolly, and he lay down on his bed, arms behind his head.

"I was thinking more like a lion or something," James said. "I'd go with the dog, even."

"Hey, I like my dog," Sirius said.

"Oh, and by the way, Mum and Dad say that they consider this your room, whenever you'd like to use it. Wendy's sort of packed up and left for Morocco with her new husband so it's all yours." James sat down next to the empty closet. "You want to put posters up, that's fine. We could go into town, and I know this great place in Diagon Alley that sells Chudley Cannons merchandise."

"That's nice of your folks," Sirius commented. He wondered why they were being so generous. First it was all the Christmas presents, and now it was his own room.

"Well, we want you to have a place that you can call your home," James said. "I know how your family is, and-"

"What about my family?" Sirius said, jumping to attention.

"Well, _you_ know, Sirius," James said. "And why are you looking at me like that?"

"I --- I don't need charity just because you think I ---"

"It isn't charity, Sirius," James said, standing up. "I'm your friend. I'm trying to help you."

"I'm fine," Sirius growled. "And I am capable of handling my life, thanks."

James, sort of surprised, put his hands up in surrender, and sat back down. There was a moment of silence before he said, "Well, I still think Chudley Cannons posters wouldn't hurt the room."

"Master James! Master Sirius!" Sprite shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Sprite has finished making dinner!"

The boys headed off down the hall and down the stairs. They flew into the dining room, stomachs empty. There, on the table, were mounds of food. Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat down, and the boys followed. Sprite took her seat, fidgeting with her red mitten.

They lowered their heads, and spoke softly for a few minutes. Yet Sirius didn't hear what they were saying. His head was still buzzing from the conversation before. The Potters felt as if they were helping him. As if they were giving him a home and a comfortable setting. He wasn't beaten, he wasn't starved --- why did they feel that they had to be so nice to him?

""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Sirius," James's voice whispered. "Sirius, wake up."

Sirius woke from a dream that he couldn't exactly remember. It was dark, and the whitewashed room was blackened, except for a tint of green light from outside.

"What?" he groaned, and rolled over in his bed.

"Look!" James's shadow was above him, pointing at the window.

Sirius sat up, and then followed James's finger to the window. He gasped and felt a coldness sweep over his body.

There, across the street, hovering over another white house, was the Dark Mark. All was still except for the green glow that came from both the sign and the house itself.

"An old Muggle-born by the name of Grace Harting lives there," James said quietly. "She used to watch me and Wendy when we were younger. And-"

He trailed off into silence as the two boys sat there on the bed, not able to take their eyes off of the Mark. Sirius didn't know if James's parents knew what had happened. He just stared at it, the hatred building inside of his heart. He glared at it and felt tears well up in his eyes. He was crying? When was the last time that he had cried? It must have been years ago.

"That could have been my house, Sirius," James finally said. "It could have been mine."

Sirius didn't say anything, as they heard the Ministry cars pull up to the scene.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The article in the paper the next day read _ANOTHER MURDER IN LONDON_. The entire Christmas holidays had a damper put on them because of the tragedy. The Potters attended the funeral of Grace Harting, and Sirius decided to go along, out of respect. Christmas was totally forgotten, except for three whole hours in which James and Sirius unwrapped their presents quietly. Even Sprite was melancholy during the holidays.

A letter came from Remus and Peter, along with some sweets that they had gotten out of the kitchen one night.

_Hope your Christmas went well. Peter thought that he was a sloth for a few days. No such luck. Heard about the Harting woman. Hope you're all right. Write back._

Remus and Peter 

They wrote back saying that everything was fine. But it wasn't. And the tone of their letter must have suggested something of the sort, because Remus wrote one back asking if they were sure, and Sirius wrote one back saying that of course they were sure, and Remus wrote back telling them that they were liars, and James wrote back telling Remus that they weren't. The argument between the four of them went on for a while, and finally the letters from Hogwarts stopped coming, and Sirius and James were more cut off from the world than they had been.

One night, they heard Mr. and Mrs. Potter arguing, and crept to the top of the stairs to listen to their squabble. Sirius had found it very interesting that they were capable of being angry, since they had always seemed like the perfect family to him.

"They asked me at work again," Mr. Potter's voice came.

"Who?"

"Klein, for one. Says that they're getting less picky about who they kill and who they leave alone. Says he doesn't care if we're pureblood or not. In their eyes, we're blood traitors."

"Well, we're not-"

"Of course we're not."

"We need to go into hiding then."

"No, we're not running. We're staying right here. All of us. As a family."

"We can't do that. If we stay then there won't be a family to protect. Think of James, think of me."

"I _am_ thinking of you."

"No, because if you were, you would be-"

"I would be doing what? Tell me, what should I be doing?"

"Finding a Secret Keeper!" Mrs. Potter snapped. "I'm sure Dumbledore would be more than happy to-"

"Dumbledore already has too much on his mind," Mr. Potter interrupted. "What with the Order and all. No, I'm not putting that burden on him."

"What about Arthur Weasley then?"

"He just had a child. I can't bring him into it."

"Then Minerva, or Kingsley, or Hagrid-"

"No, we're staying here."

"We won't survive if we stay here."

"James is usually at school," Mr. Potter said, "and everyone knows that that's the one place that Voldemort won't touch. As long as Dumbledore's there, nothing's going to happen to him."

There was a long pause, and then Mrs. Potter sighed. "Whatever you think is best," she said.

"Master James and Master Sirius shouldn't be listening to Master Potter and Mistress Potter's conversation."

James and Sirius turned around, and saw Sprite standing on the topmost stair, pulling at her red mitten.

James grabbed her and ran for his room. Sirius followed, and shut the door behind them. Sprite yanked her arm away from James and backed away.

"You is scaring Sprite, Master James," Sprite squeaked.

"Are my parents thinking about leaving?" James demanded.

"Sprite doesn't know anything, Master James-"

"Sprite, please!" He took a hold of her shoulders. "Are they? Are they, Sprite?"

Sprite looked at Sirius, and then back at James, and then to the floor. "Sprite heard Master Potter say to Mistress Potter that Master Potter wanted to go to Morocco and live with Mistress Wendy, Sprite did. But Mistress Potter wouldn't have Master Potter's proposal, and-"

"Why would they want to go to Morocco?" James asked.

"Well, Master Potter has been asked to join Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, Master James, and Master Potter will not budge. Sprite thinks that Master Potter will never turn to the Dark Side-"

"And you're damn right!" James said defiantly, and he looked towards the door. "I told you, Sirius. Things are getting worse. You heard Dumbledore that night Snorks died. He was killed by them. They found out he was spying, and they scratched him out. They don't care how many they have to kill, and how they go about doing it. And we'll be next."

Sirius didn't say a word. He just stared at James. He was a scrawny thirteen year old boy that was still struggling with Professor Sprout's homework, and he wanted to go out and save the world.

"There's nothing we can do," he said.

"There is something," James said. "There has to be."

"Leave it to the adults." Sirius crossed the room and sat down on his bed. "They know what they're doing."

James was still staring at the door when he said quietly, "No, they don't."

"Master James," Sprite said, "Master Sirius, you will both be safe at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everyone knows that Lord Voldemort fears only one wizard, and that is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. After what he did to Grindelwald-"

"I don't care," James said. "My parents aren't going to be there."

"Your parents are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves." Sirius lay back down in his bed. "Now I want to go to sleep."

"No, you just don't want to talk about it," James muttered, and then took his leave of the room. Sprite, head bowed, followed him out.

So what if he wanted to avoid it? He knew reality. He knew that he was only a child, and didn't know enough about anything to go out and start attacking Death Eaters. They were talking about grown men and women that were powerful enough to kill other grown men and women. And knocking off two thirteen year old boys would not be anything to them. It would be like killing a cockroach. They wouldn't have a second thought about it.

As he looked out his window, he saw the silhouette of the house across the street. He thought he still saw some green flickering in one of the upstairs windows.


	22. Chapter 21: Slytherin and Gryffindor

**CHAPTER 21 **

**Slytherin and Gryffindor **

"I'm gonna give it a go," Peter said defiantly as James and Sirius dragged their trunks back into the dormitory room.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Why not?" Peter cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

"Look, Peter, I'm tired," James said, and he fell onto his bed in a heap. Remus, who was reading out of the Animagus book, looked over his reading glasses at him.

"You don't look too good," he said.

"Don't talk to me."

"Good enough for me," Remus said. Sirius realized that he was a lot taller. At least an inch. Little Remus was growing considerably high, and James was shrinking. The boys were changing, even Sirius. His voice, in the past six months, had dropped an octave at least.

They were growing up.

"Any luck with rat-boy?" Sirius jabbed a thumb at Peter, who was still concentrating hard. Remus shook his head.

"He was sure he was a sloth," he said, "and I would have believed it. But no, he's not."

Peter frowned and bit his upper lip.

"I think I see a squirrel," he said. "Would that make sense?"

"Look here," James said, getting up from his bed, "you're doing it all wrong. Look, don't worry about seeing the animal. Worry about yourself. Connect with yourself. I connected when I thought about flying."

Sirius stopped. He thought back to when he connected. It was at the time when he was feeling the most hate inside him. That's when it had happened. He felt his stomach lurch.

"Ok, I see-"

"Don't talk," Sirius barked, and Peter nodded obediently.

"Okay."

"I said don't talk."

"Sorry."

There was another minute or two, and then Peter shook his head. "I don't see anything."

"Forget that you want to see something," James instructed. "Just think about yourself. Forget that we're here. It's all about you."

Peter nodded and squinted harder. All of a sudden, his eyes popped open, and he screamed, "A RAT! I'M A RAT!"

The three boys raised their eyebrows and looked to each other.

"That was obvious," Sirius growled. "Why didn't we guess that before?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

Now with all three of them ready to go on to the next stage, a new sort of hope resided in Remus's heart. The transformation in January wasn't as bad, now that he knew that he wouldn't be alone for long now. His friends were on their way. He seemed to keep some sort of mind knowing that.

In February, they decided to go to the second step. James was again the first to try it, and Remus read off the directions from the book (which was long overdue).

"It says now for you to become that animal in heart and in spirit," he said. "Whatever that means. That's all it says."

"Are you out of your mind?" James said. "That's it? There are no other directions?"

"They like to keep it broad, don't they?" Sirius commented.

"I can't become a deer!"

"It's a stag."

"Whatever it is, I can't do that!" James said.

"At least try," Remus said pleadingly. "Just --- just think about it. Where do stags live?"

"Well, I'm guessing in the forest," he huffed, "but I-"

"Then pretend that you're in the forest."

James sighed and closed his eyes again. He couldn't do this. This was mad! They should just stop right now. It was too complicated! He couldn't-

"You're not trying," Remus reprimanded him.

"Yes, I am," he retorted, and he went back to thinking about the forest.

The forest was very --- woodsy. Filled with trees. And leaves. There was a scent of something in the air that he had never smelled. His hooves pawed the ground, and he leaped forward onto his prey. Tearing that stupid deer bit by bit. He was the tiger. He was the-

"It's not working," he said, "I keep picturing myself as a tiger."

"This is going to take longer than we thought," Remus sighed as he slammed the book shut. "And for the last time, you're not a tiger. You're a stag. Deal with it."

James, frowning and mumbling something under his breath that sounded like "stupid deer," plopped into bed.

"""""""""""""

Their third Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was named Professor June, and he was a kindly man that spoke very softly and had taken a liking to Remus. _That makes two teachers that favored him,_ Sirius thought.

He was a smaller man, with thinning hair and a large smile. His way of teaching was hands on, and so far they had handled a real to life Jawa, and they were expecting to see a Thestral the next lesson.

Sure enough, there was June, standing with his arm around an invisible something or other as they strolled in for their first lesson of February.

"How many people can see it?" he asked as they took their seats.

None of the four boys raised their hands, but a few others did. Sirius looked to James and shook his head. James shrugged.

"What is it?"

"I'm guessing a Thestral," James said.

"And right you are, Mr. Potter," June said, patting the air. "It is a horselike creature that only can be seen by people who have witnessed a death. I have been able to see them since my mother died in front of me at age twenty. It seems like a good lot of you haven't been through that grief yet. Thank God for it, eh?

"Now, for those who can't see it, please turn to page four hundred thirteen for an illustration." Most of the class flipped their books open.

June continued on with the lesson, but James didn't listen. He just stared at the empty space. How long would it be before he could see that thing? How long before it appeared in front of him, and he was wishing it wasn't there?

"""""""""""""""

The first Quidditch game was scheduled for the first Saturday of February. James was so nervous that he couldn't bring himself to eat or sleep. He was starting to look as bad as Remus by the time the night before came. Everyone was cheering him on at the practices, where he was doing a very good job. And there were two other Chasers. It wasn't like he was the Keeper or anything ---

Finally the day came, and Sirius and Remus walked down to the pitch with him, both of them donned in red and gold.

"You look like you're about to lose your breakfast," Sirius commented. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."

"That's what you think," James said, and he shuffled off into the tent.

The other six players were already there, changing into their uniforms. Greasings smiled and waved. James waved back.

"Ah, Potter," Dennis said, "how are you feeling? I haven't seen someone look that nervous since Hastings in the match against Germany in '71."

"I'm fine," James lied, and he went to suit up. A few minutes later, he found himself on the pitch.

Davey Gudgeon was announcing, and his voice magically echoed throughout the entire field.

"Gryffindor versus Slytherin!" he announced. "First match of the season. A few new faces to the teams this year. New Slytherin Beater, who beat the you know what out of Severus Sn-"

"Gudgeon," Professor McGonagall warned.

"But anyway, back to the game roster this morning. On the Gryffindor team, we have Keeper Hugo Dashings, Chasers Dennis Berster, Kenneth Graham, and newcomer James Potter, Seeker Bertha Jorkins, and Beaters Gilbert Grudgins and newcomer Orlick Greasings!"

The team swooped onto the field and took their positions as the names of the Slytherin players were called out. James hardly recognized any of them. He scanned the crowd for his friends, and noticed them sitting next to Hagrid, holding up their wands and writing in the sky "GO LIONS." Hagrid was beaming, and gave him a thumbs up. James was taken aback. He had never really gotten to know Hagrid, but he smiled anyway and soared higher into the sky.

"Ah wahnt ah fahr gahmeh," Darsing said, walking to the middle of the field with the Quaffle in hand. "Thah ahncloohdehs yah tah, Barhstahr."

"What?" Dennis asked, but Darsing didn't hear him. She threw the ball high into the air and retreated to the sidelines.

Dennis caught it with ease and passed it to Graham.

"A nice catch by Graham," Davey said, "and it better be a nice catch all the way through, Ken, 'cause I've got bets with Dung on you."

"Gudgeon ---"

"Sorry, Professor."

Graham then passed the Quaffle to James, who was speedily making his way towards the goalpost. He caught it and slammed it into the smallest hole.

"And ten points to Gryffindor!" Davey's voice said. "It's ten to zilch, Gryffindor, thanks to James Potter, the new Chaser. Go rookie, go!"

The crowd roared, and Sirius had started rooting with Remus from the stands. He laughed and went back to the middle to retrieve the Quaffle. This time, Darsing threw it to him, and he shot straight for the goalpost, forgetting about Dennis and Graham.

"Twenty points to zip, Gryffindor!" Davey shouted. "Potter took control of the ball, and it looks like he's going to be what this team needs to win the Cup."

Graham was smarting after being ignored, and gave James a glare as they went back to the middle of the field.

James was smiling to himself. He was going to actually do well! He had found something to call his own!

"And Potter has control of the ball again, and he's zipping back towards the goal --- and thirty points to nothing, Gryffindor!"

"Good job, Potter!" Dennis said as he flew past him. "Very good. I haven't seen that many goals scored that fast since Darsing's own career in '78."

"Thinkin' about givin' the ball to anyone else today?" Graham shouted from his position. James frowned. They were winning, weren't they?

"And Potter's in control of the ball again, and he's heading towards the goal --- and LOOK OUT, JAMES! BLUDGER!"

James ducked, and a Bludger hit from a beefy Slytherin whizzed past his head. The Slytherin boy smiled and slicked back his hair.

"THAT SON OF A-"

"DAVEY GUDGEON! I AM WARNING YOU!"

"Sorry, Professor." Davey cleared his throat, and continued on. "Potter scores again! And it's forty points for Gryffindor at the moment, Jorkins is still looking for the Snitch, and seems not to be able to find it --- Pucey is tailing her, trying to find it as well --- doesn't look like they're having much luck. In the meantime, we have Potter to keep racking up the points. Go, Potter, go!"

Graham's glare grew more intense as James flew past him to retrieve the Quaffle from Darsing again.

"And Potter is in control, yet again. Harting is coming from behind him, but --- no, he ducks him --- throws the ball to Berster, and Berster back to Potter. Potter back to Berster, and Berster to Potter. Potter scores again! Fifty to zilch, Gryffindor! If only Graham was up to snuff, we could actually have a team here this year."

"Try to keep your opinions to yourself, Mr. Gudgeon."

"GO LIONS GO! GO LIONS GO!" Sirius shouted from the stands, and everyone in his box followed his lead. James smiled and flipped over on his broom. He took his hands off of the handle and waved to the audience.

"And Potter is showing an amazing control of his broom. His Cleansweep Two is not as good as the new models, Cleansweep 3, but it really makes no difference. It's the rider that makes the speed, I always say. And moving along, Potter is in control. He shoots --- he scores! Sixty to zilch, Gryffindor! And you would think that the Slytherin team is asleep this morning. Wake up, Slytherin!"

All of a sudden, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bertha Jorkins swoop down out of the sky and fly after a tiny ball of golden light.

"And Jorkins seems to have spied the Snitch! This could be it, ladies and gents, this could very well be the game --- and YES! Jorkins catches the Snitch, and Gryffindor wins, two hundred and twenty to nada!"

The good three fourths of the crowd in red and gold got to their feet and screamed and shouted so loud that James's ears hurt. He smiled at Sirius, Remus, and Peter as he made his way to the ground.

"GO, POTTER, GO, POTTER, GO!" the stands screamed as he landed. He waved to them, smile spreading across his face. He had never felt this way. He had never been so important ---

Sirius and Remus rushed onto the field, and Sirius knocked him down as he tried to raise him in the air. The entire school flooded onto the field as the Slytherin team quietly disappeared from sight. Graham was still glaring at James.

"I have not seen that good of a game since the Quidditch World Cup in '72. It was between Austria and the U.S," Dennis said, patting him on the back. "Great job, Potter. Great job."

James looked over the heads to make out a red haired one, and he smiled. "Hey, Evans!"

Lily blinked and looked at him for a moment before trudging off out of sight.

"GO, POTTER, GO, POTTER, GO!" the crowd shouted as they lifted him onto their shoulders and began parading around the pitch. Darsing was smiling, Sirius and Remus were screaming at the tops of their voices.

Life was wonderful again.

""""""""""""""""""""

Lily Evans was a very pretty girl. Anyone who could catch a glance of her in the corridors could figure this much. What most people didn't know, however, is that she was anything but the expected.

"I don't exactly know what the whole commotion is about Quidditch. It's only a game," she said as she and Severus sat outside the Fat Lady, their legs up to their chests and their hands dumping themselves into a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The night was filled with post-Quidditch jubilation; no one would know or care that a couple third years were barely outside of their common rooms. And if anyone did find them out, Lily would just jump behind the portrait and out of sight. Severus, who had more to lose and a longer way to trudge back to his Slytherin dungeon, thought the risk was worth it.

"Got a vomit one," Severus spit his bean into his palm and flung it down the staircase, wiping his hand on his ratty robes, "Which one do you have?"

"Grass," Lily said, disappointed, and she hit the back of her head against the portrait. The Fat Lady stirred in her sleep, "It's so quiet out here ---"

"Well, yes, seeing as you and I aren't the only ones celebrating."

"Would you rather ---"

"No," Severus said, taking another Bertie Bott's and choking it down, "No, we lost. Terrible place to be tonight, the dungeon. And this is tradition, isn't it? Sitting here outside in the corridor, eating these gross beans --- although I don't quite know why. Neither of us seems to like them."

"Maybe we should switch to Chocolate Frogs next year."

There was a muffled, muted laugh from both of them before Lily slowly turned her face from her friend. Severus, upon looking at her, realized her shoulders were shaking. She was crying.

"Lily?"

"I'm sorry," Lily said quietly, "We haven't just hung out for such a long time, and here I am, ruining it ---"

"Lily, what's wrong?" Severus could feel his heart breaking a bit, and this was reflected on his pallid face as he pushed her hair back out of her face, and attempted a smile, "Come on, cough it up."

"Why is Nott your friend, Sev?"

The question came as a bit of a surprise for Severus. Theodore Nott was a boy who he had grown to call an acquaintance at best, and a foolhardy leech at worst. For Lily to bring such a name into such a conversation was very unexpected.

"Nott's not really my friend, Lily ---"

"He's a horrible little prig," Lily said, her eyes flaring green, "I overheard him outside the Potions dungeon, speaking with that Lucius boy. He was angry about the exams Slughorn handed back yesterday. He failed."

"Surprise of the year," Severus laughed.

"And he had heard I had gotten top marks," Lily turned from her friend again, pushing the beans bag away from her, "And he was already angry that I was invited to Slughorn's party last week and he wasn't --- that must be why he said what he said ---"

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'That stupid Mudblood has no business being at Hogwarts to begin with,'" and with this confession came more tears, and Lily curled herself up in a ball, back to Severus. Severus, trying to fight the urge to hug her, allowed himself to only pat her shoulder.

"Lily, Nott's a git. Everyone knows it."

"So why are you friends with him!"

"You don't think _I_ would say something like that!"

"Well, is it true?" Lily said, her green, green eyes flaring up again through her uncontrollable weeping, "Is it true what they say about Muggle borns? Do I have no business being here?"

Severus, now unable to fight the urge any longer, embraced her, squeezing her in his thin, gangly arms. And there the two childhood friends sat in the corridor, listening to Lily's crying mix with the Fat Lady's snoring and the cheers from the Gryffindors behind the portrait. Lily dug her face into Severus's cloak, burying her red nose in his robes. He wanted her to stay there forever, but knew she couldn't.

She never could.

"I have told you before," Severus said quite sternly, "It doesn't matter who you parents are. And the only people who think differently have been inbred so many times it doesn't matter what they believe."

Lily stopped crying a bit after that, let go of him, and nodded bravely, "Thank you, Sev."

"I'll talk to Nott," he said, "I'll teach him a bit about manners and bring him out of the stone age, eh?"

"You really are my best friend, Sev," Lily said, giving him one last hug, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

_Or I you_, Severus thought to himself.

And with the night's crisis over and done with, the two of them went to throwing the beans down the stairs, seeing who could chuck theirs further while hitting the most steps. When they heard Mrs. Norris coming, Lily gave Severus one last hug, one last thank you, and disappeared into the Gryffindor common room.

And Snape left for Slytherin.


	23. Chapter 22: Sirius's Worst Fear

**CHAPTER 22 **

**Sirius's Boggart **

Professor June had another surprise waiting for them on the Monday after the Quidditch game. He was holding a large suitcase as the class took their seats, all still congratulating James on a superb game. He smiled, mussed his hair, and kicked his feet onto the desk. Sirius laughed. "Think you're something special, eh?"

"Geroff," James said.

"Class, I would like to start our lesson," June said, struggling with the suitcase. "We will be learning about boggarts today. This one I found in my room only last night, and he gave me quite a scare. Who can tell me what a boggart is?"

No one raised their hand.

"Very well, very well," June said, setting the suitcase down on his desk. It jiggled and jumped as if it were alive. "Turn to page four seventy-two for a complete description and illustration. Mr. Lupin, could you please read the passage aloud?"

Remus opened his book and, following along with his finger, read, "Boggarts are Dark Creatures that usually lives in wardrobes, desks, drawers, or similar dark, enclosed spaces. The boggart has no form unless a being is close by. It then transforms itself into its prey's worst fear."

"Exactly," June said. "Now, the only way to properly exterminate a boggart is to confuse it. Mr. Lupin, if I could call you to the front of the class, I would like you to help me demonstrate."

Remus quietly stood and walked to the teacher's desk.

"Now, in a few moments, I will open this suitcase and a true to life boggart will appear before you. It will take the shape of your worst fear," June said. "But do not be alarmed. Laughter kills these creatures very easily. Therefore, we must somehow make it amusing. When the boggart rises up, I want you, Mr. Lupin, to raise your wand, and think of a comical way to change its form. Grip your wand and shout loudly the following spell: _Riddikulus_. We will begin at the back of the room, and work our way down the aisle. Therefore, you, Mr. Malfoy, will be next. Last will be Mr. Black. All understand? We must do it at a quick pace, as to confuse it. Now, on the count of three. Are you ready, Mr. Lupin? Good. Here we go then. One, two, three!"

The suitcase opened, and there floated a round, white orb, shining in Remus's eyes. He gasped. It was the full moon. How on earth was he going to make that comical? He looked back at June. The entire class would know what he was now!

"Hurry, come on now," June said.

Remus thought quickly, and then stated, "_Riddikulus!_"

A small figure of a cow appeared out of thin air and jumped over the orb, mooing. The class laughed.

"Next, Mr. Malfoy keep it going, let's keep it going."

Lucius stood, and the moon disappeared as Remus took his seat. The boggart turned into a cane, and Lucius raised his wand. "_Riddikulus!_" The cane grew hands and legs and began to do a jig.

One by one, the students ran to the front of the class, where June would compliment their efforts, and yell for the next person to come up. Finally, Peter ran to the front of the room, and raised his wand ready.

The boggart turned into Peter himself. Except this Peter was different. He was lying on the ground, eyes wide open and lifeless. Peter gasped, "_Ri --- ri --- riddikulus_!"

Boggart Peter didn't change.

"_Riddikulus!_"

The boggart still wouldn't budge.

"Good try, Mr. Pettigrew. Maybe some other day. Miss Black, care to try?"

Narcissa came forward. "_Riddikulus_!" she shouted before anyone could see what it had turned into. Then came Lily Evans, who took Narcissa's now flowery spider and transformed it into a tall, gangly Death Eater who was slowly removing his mask. Her eyes seemed surprised as they dashed away from the almost-revealed face, but her hand was steady as she threw the Death Eater into a masked clown.

Next was James, and the clown changed into an eerie green light. There lay the Dark Mark, staring at him. The skull with the snake between its teeth.

"_Riddikulus!_" James shouted, and the skull choked on the snake.

"Mr. Black, you're last. Get up here and finish it off."

Sirius ran forward, very brave, and brandished his wand. Not in time though, and the boggart roared.

Remus stared at it for a moment, and then back at Sirius, who was wide eyed and stiff.

The boggart had grown hair and a tail. It was now on all fours, and its snout sniffed the air. Then, it reared on its hind legs and clawed the air. The howl was heard through the entire room, and the students screamed.

It was the illustration of page 394. But it was a different color, and the body of the beast was smaller. The hair was the same as Remus's.

"Mr. Black, you can take your seat," June said sternly. June knew. He knew. From the look on his face, the class could tell he was angry.

But Sirius couldn't move. Remus, shocked, watched as the teacher shoved him aside, and the boggart turned into a crying, screaming child, writhing on the floor. He shoved it in the suitcase and locked it.

"Well, I believe that was enough excitement for one day," June said, wiping his brow. "Maybe we'll try again another day."

The bell rang, and the class was dismissed. Remus, still in a daze, grabbed his books and headed for the door without saying a word to the other three.

"Mr. Black, can I see you for a moment?" Professor June said, tucking his suitcase away.

Sirius grabbed his bag and walked slowly to the desk. "Yes, Professor?"

"I know who your boggart was," June said, "and I don't know how you found out-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius said coolly.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," June said, his eyes ablaze. He had lost the calmness that he showed in class. "We both know. And I am warning you not to tell anyone. If I get wind that you've been poking around next to that-"

"I really don't know what you mean, sir," Sirius replied. "It was a picture from my first year text book. You can look it up for yourself if you'd like. Page three ninety-four."

June's eyes went soft, and he leaned back in his seat. "Why do you fear werewolves?"

"Can I go now, Professor?"

June reluctantly nodded his head, and Sirius walked out of the classroom, dreading Remus's reaction to his boggart.

"""""""""""""""""

"How is he?"

James shook his head sullenly and replied, "Not very good, mate. Actually, he hasn't talked to any of us for a few good hours."

The dormitory door was locked, and Remus wouldn't allow the other three to come in. There had been silence from behind the door ever since he had gone in there. Sirius had just arrived, and Peter was lying on the floor, asleep. James was leaning against the door, checking his watch.

"It's about ten, and if we don't get in there soon, one of the prefects is going to come and yell at us," James said.

"Get out of the way," Sirius said, and he banged on the door. "Remus! Oi! Open up! We've got to talk!"

No answer.

"Remus, come on now," Sirius said. "Just open the door. I'll explain -"

"I don't need an explanation," Remus shouted from behind the door.

"Look," Sirius said, coming closer, "we're tired. We want to go to sleep. Now that room is three fourths ours. Let us in. Now."

No answer.

"Blimey, Remus!" James said. "It's been three hours!"

"Stop your sulking and come out of there!" Sirius barked.

The door opened, and there stood a furious Remus. It wasn't until now that Sirius realized that Remus was about as tall as he was now. "Sulking? Sulking?!"

"Remus-"

"You're right," Remus interrupted, brushing past them and down the stairs. "It is three fourths your room. It's all yours."

"Remus, we're going to talk about this before we do anything," James said, following him down the staircase. "You two are friends, and that's not going to be ruined by some stupid boggart. All right?"

Remus didn't answer. He took a seat on the couch.

"Sirius, come here," James ordered. Sirius didn't move, he just leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"I have no control over what that thing did."

Remus ignored Sirius, and looked straight at James. "I'm not sulking. Just leave me alone."

"Remus-" James started.

"Leave me alone," Remus said, quieter now, and looked into the fire.

James sighed, and then looked to Sirius. "Come on, now. We better be getting to bed."

Sirius, giving one last glance at Remus, climbed the spiral staircase leading to the dorms, dragging the sleeping Peter with him.

Remus didn't sleep that night. James could hear him pacing the floor as he drifted off into his own dreams.

""""""""""""""""

Sirius and Remus didn't speak to each other that next day, or the day after. In fact, Remus wasn't joining them on their nightly escapades either. And he had announced that he was staying behind for the Hogsmeade trip in March.

"I don't feel much like going," he said. "Full moon's coming and all." He shot a look over James's shoulder at Sirius, who was trying to look in a different direction.

This left Dung, Davey, Sirius, James, and Peter to explore the city all by themselves that Saturday. They left early that morning and found themselves in the Three Broomsticks, taking a seat next to the fireplace.

"Hello, boys," a bouncy and attractive lady said, coming over to their table. "Haven't seen you in here before. Except, I know you, don't I?"

She looked at Dung, who smiled sweetly. "Yes, ma'am. We've met before."

"Yes, we have," she said, not looking too happy about it. "Well, my name's Rosmerta, and I own this place. What can I get you?"

"Five butterbeers," James said, ordering for them all.

"That it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and Rosmerta smiled. She then made her way to the bar, and out of sight.

"How come that bookworm ain't here this time?" Davey asked Sirius. Sirius shrugged.

"He wasn't feeling very well," James said, and then he turned the conversation to Quidditch. Davey was the sort of person that when put on a topic he loved, he wouldn't stop to take a breath. He ranted on and on until their tankards of butterbeer were empty, and they had to order another round to let him finish his train of thought.

"What are you reckoning for the next match?" Davey asked Dung. "Ten Galleons on James? He scores at least forty points?"

"Forty? Nah, he's still a rookie," Dung said, his voice somewhat slurred. "No more'n twenty."

"It's a deal." Davey and Dung shook on it, and Davey quickly turned to James and whispered, "And you better get over twenty, 'cause I'm flat broke. Used up all my money on my Christmas presents."

James smiled and nodded.

"Championship game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. I was sure that Slytherin was going to make it this year," Davey chimed back into the conversation, "but their team seemed to be going for the size and not for the smarts. Unlike us, mind you. Just look at James."

James took a swig of his butterbeer.

"Except for that Greasings Beater, he's large," Sirius said.

"Did you see the look on Graham's face when he saw how good you were, James?" Davey chortled.

"Yeah, I did. What was wrong with him?"

"Well," Dung said, "Graham entered the team in his fourth year. He had the limelight up until he knocked Betty Durster out cold with the Quaffle. Everyone was sure it was on purpose since, you know, the Quaffle ain't that easy to hurt someone with. Betty was the best damn girl that our team has ever seen. Yeah, even better than Jorkins. And she was getting all the accolades and such. So most peoples thought that he was knocking her off to get rid of the competition."

"Was he?"

"Of course," Dung said, taking a swig. "He's bloody competitive. So watch out for the Quaffle. If he ever touches it again, that is."

The table exploded with laughter, and they all ordered another round.

""""""""""""""""""""""""

When they arrived back at Hogwarts, Sirius, Peter, and James opened the door to a surprising scene. There was Remus, dressed in his scarf and mittens, shutting and locking his trunk. His belongings were all gathered. He looked at them as they came in.

"Remus, what are you-"

"I'm leaving," he said quietly, and then took hold of a handle on his trunk.

"And you weren't even going to say goodbye?" Peter asked.

"Wait, why are you going?" Sirius barked.

"Because I've decided that I wasn't fooling anyone," Remus said loudly. "Because --- it's no use, and I'll always be --- well, this just isn't the place for me anymore."

"You're out of your mind," James said. "We've been working for two years on that stupid Animagus spell, and you're just going to quit? This isn't like you!"

"Goodbye," Remus said, wheeling his trunk past them, but Sirius dangerously jumped in front of him and slammed the door with a loud bang. Remus looked at him, unsure, and then gritted his teeth.

"Move, Sirius."

"No, I'm not letting you walk out of here," Sirius said. "You are not going to let me push you out of this school."

"It's nothing to do with you," Remus retorted, and then went to move for the door, but Sirius violently pushed him back. Remus looked somewhat scared.

"Sirius!" James said, but Sirius wasn't listening.

"Look, Remus. Both you and I know that I can't change what I saw," he said. "I wish I could, but I can't. You want the truth, Lupin? I'm scared to death of that thing I saw that first night. I can't lie. I'm scared. Yeah, that's right. Sirius Black is scared of something. But you've got to show me up. You have to prove to me that I'm wrong. You can't walk away from us like this."

Remus stared at him and gripped the handle on his trunk. "The world doesn't revolve around Sirius Black and James Potter. There are other things-"

"No there aren't!" Sirius said boldly.

"Professor McGonagall is scared of me. Why do you think she treats me so sweetly? I tried to attack her! And Darryl thinks I'm some sort of monster! And now you -"

"No one thinks you're a monster, Remus," James cut in. "If we thought that, do you really think that we would be trying to get you to stay, let alone trying to prepare ourselves to go down in that tunnel with you?"

Remus's grip on the trunk loosened, and then James said, "You keep thinking that we're gonna abandon you, Lupin. And what you're gonna end up doing is abandoning us out of that fear. You're not alone, Remus."

"But I am," he whispered.

"No," Peter said, as if coming to the realization himself. "No, you're not. Remember? Something messes with you, it messes with all of us, right? Isn't that what we agreed on?"

Remus looked at Peter, and then at James, and finally at Sirius.

"Damn you all," Remus said weakly, and James smiled.

James grabbed his trunk and pulled it back to his bed. Sirius didn't budge, though, as if not sure if Remus was going to make a run for it or not. Remus gave a weak smile, and took off his scarf.

"You know, I'm very scared of black dogs," he said to Sirius. Sirius forced a very small smile onto his face.


	24. Chapter 23: The Final Game

**CHAPTER 23 **

**The Final Game **

"And Professor June warned you if you told?" Remus asked, sticking his fork into his potato.

"No, he didn't _warn_ me," Sirius said. "He _threatened_ me. He knows about you."

"You think he's a werewolf, too?" James said, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice.

"Possibly," Remus said. "Well, I've never really met another one, you know. But he may be. They must put him somewhere other than my Shack, though, because there hasn't been anyone in there except for me. Unless he's come up with some sort of cure or something that he isn't sharing with the rest of us werewolves."

"Wouldn't be too hopeful, Remus," Sirius said. "I think that he'd be making a fortune if he had done something like that."

"Speaking of that shack," James said, "did you hear what the Hogsmeade villagers were calling it?"

"No, what?" Sirius asked.

"The 'Shrieking Shack,'" James laughed. "They say it's haunted by very violent spirits." He gave a look to Remus. "Oh, yeah. You look very violent."

"You just wait a few more days," he said grimly, and went back to the potato.

"But what about June?" Sirius said again. "I mean, he strikes me as the type, doesn't he?"

"Dumbledore wouldn't have hired a werewolf for a teacher," James said.

"He enrolled _me_, didn't he?" Remus said.

"Yeah, but there's a difference."

"Hey guys!"

They all turned to look at Peter, who was running full speed towards them, holding a paper.

"Guys, look at this," he panted, slamming the paper in front of them. "It says there was a massive Muggle killing last night!" He pointed at a picture of at least twenties bodies hovering in the air, with fire and smoke underneath them. "There was one survivor. He said that-"

"We can read for ourselves, thanks," Sirius said. Hetook the paper from Peter and scanned the article. "It says that the man was spared. He reports that one man in a mask left him alive to relay this message to authorities."

"What's the message?"

"I'm getting to that," Sirius snapped. "He said that they told him to 'Beware the Dark Lord, for he will not rest until his name is feared.'"

"This guy's a real piece of work, ain't he?" Peter said, smiling. But the other three weren't.

"Where did it happen?" James asked.

"Doesn't say," Sirius said, flipping the page. "Hey, look. _Ministry official Bartemius Crouch gives Aurors the right to slay any Death Eater without questioning_."

"Finally, they're finding that it's serious," Remus said. "Now maybe the killings will stop."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Sirius said. "I've grown up with these sorts of people. I know what they're capable of. They don't give up easily without a fight."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

The Quidditch final was to take place the first Saturday in April. It would be between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Slytherin was sort of sore about not making it to the game, and a sandy haired boy by the name of Nott had begun to pass around papers that read "Support the Snake!"

"Support the Snake!" he shouted as he walked up and down the Slytherin table the morning before the game. "Boycott the final! Support the Snake! Don't go to the final!"

"It's their own ruddy fault that they didn't get to the Championship," James said. "If they had had any sort of team this year-"

"Are you going to eat that?" Sirius grabbed James' apple and bit into it.

"Well, it's for the best if they don't come," James said. "That way they won't be trying to hex us on our brooms or something."

But nerves were still running, and the entire team was of high emotions as they congregated for the final game of the year.

"Now this is the final match for many of us here," Dennis said, pacing the length of the tent. The team was sitting on a bench making last minute adjustments to their gear and uniform. "We will miss Bertha very much next year, and hope that we can replace her with someone that comes close to her talent. Bertha, I haven't seen a girl fly like you since the game between the Cannons and the Wasps in '72, when Darsing-"

"Dennis, please, get on with it," Graham snapped.

"Oh, right, right," Dennis said. "Anyway, have a good game, and please --- please --- win. Remember, all passes go straight to James so he can work his magic out there. And Graham, don't pout every time someone doesn't hand it to you. I haven't seen someone so sour over a Quaffle since Bagman took his loss in '68. Now all of you --- get out there and play your best. And remember, make Jorkins' time here a great memory."

The seven of them filed onto the pitch and mounted their brooms as Davey read off their names.

"And now, the Ravenclaw team. Keeper Scarlet Little, Chasers Webster Sartans, Lorane Podges, and newcomer Eli Dollings, Seeker Benjamin Mullroony, and Beaters Wirrington and Warley. And it looks like the teams are pretty evenly matched, in both size and smarts. Unlike the match against a certain House which I favor myself, and another that were too stupid enough to find the Quidditch field today-"

"Gudgeon!" Professor McGonagall was censoring him yet again.

"And here's the first Quaffle, thrown into the air," Davey continued. "Potter takes control of it, and scores! Ten to nothing, Gryffindor! Looks like Dung'll be paying up after all. Thanks, James!"

James smiled and went back to the center. There, the Quaffle was given to him again, and he sped towards the goalpost.

"Twenty to zilch, Gryffindor! No thanks to Graham or Berster. It looks like even the Ravenclaw team is no match for Potter either. And Potter gets control of the ball again, and it's in the air, and- WAIT! LOOK OUT!"

James felt a hard body slam him off course, and one of the Ravenclaw Chasers grabbed the ball from him.

"HEY! SARTANS! THAT'S CHEATING YOU PIECE OF-"

"DAVEY GUDGEON! IF I HAVE TO WARN YOU ONE MORE TIME!"

"And still, the referee, who must have gone blind-"

"GUDGEON!"

"Because, of course, that wasn't an illegal steal of the ball, and Ravenclaw team is perfect in every way, and the referee has a reason for not calling a foul on that pass-"

"Give me the microphone, Gudgeon-"

Davey jumped up and ran a few bleachers, dancing out of the extended arms of the furious Professor.

"And it's twenty to ten, Gryffindor!" Davey continued. "Potter should have had that one, shouldn't he? Because Potter is going to put his good friend in debt-"

James looked, awed, at the Chaser who had beaten him. Webster Sartans was smiling, showing all of his teeth to the swooning Ravenclaw girls in the crowd.

"Guess you still are a rookie, Potter," he chortled as he flew off to the center of the field.

"And Sartans has the ball!" Davey said, still running from a very angry Professor McGonagall. "He shoots off towards the Gryffindor goals, and Dashings isn't watching. This could be another score if Dashings doesn't look up --- Dashings is asleep over there --- and Potter intercepts the ball! I've never seen anyone intercept Sartan before, have you Professor?"

"Gudgeon, I warned you. Now hand over the microphone."

"And he passes it to Berster, who passes it to Potter --- and oh! --- that was illegal! That was wrong! That wasn't right! Wirrington hits it to Berster's torso, and he's fallen. He's on the ground."

James looked back as he flew to the goalpost at top speed. Dennis was lying on the ground, holding his stomach and screaming with pain. Wirrington was looking sort of shocked at what he had just done. James listened closer to Dennis as his screaming got louder.

"WOW! I HAVEN'T SEEN A BLUDGER BLOW LIKE THAT SINCE THE GAME IN '68!"

"And Potter takes the ball and shoots --- he scores!" Davey sat back down in his chair, the Professor tired of pursuing him. "And it is thirty to ten, Gryffindor! And I believe that Jorkins has spotted something. Yes, she has --- and she's diving for it --- this could be the end of the season --- and of Jorkins' career. I asked her what she was going to do upon leaving school, and she answered me, 'Ministry work.' Now, I ask you, if you could play like that and look that good, would you be going into the Ministry? I know that I certainly wouldn't-"

"Mr. Gudgeon, we don't need a biography on our players."

"Right, Professor, right. And she is still in her dive --- she's pulling out of it --- does she have the Snitch? She does! She does!"

James looked at Bertha, who was holding the Snitch high above her head and kicking the air with her feet. Berster was trying to get out of the clutches of Darsing and head back onto the field with the rest of his team. But Darsing wouldn't let him go.

James landed next to Dashings and Graham, and ran over to Greasings and Grudgins that were now congratulating each other on a superb game.

"AND GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP, ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY TO TEN!" Davey exploded. "GRYFFINDOR HAS WON THE CUP!"

It was the greatest moment of James's life, and he was lifted into the air with Jorkins as the crowd shouted their names for all to hear.


	25. Chapter 24: Professor June's Warning

**CHAPTER 24 **

**Professor June's Warning **

That night was relatively peaceful for James. Of course, the afternoon and evening had been hectic. There had been a going away party for Bertha, and they had stopped in the middle of the party because of the dinging of her spoon on her butterbeer bottle. She stood, and the room went quiet. She raised her butterbeer to James and said, "You're the best Quidditch player of your age I have ever seen." James smiled. "You were what we needed to get this Cup, and I think that we all know that if it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have it here with our names engraved in it. So, as a token of our appreciation, the team has decided to give you a special award."

Dennis held up a golden trophy and handed it to James.

"It's for your talent, speed, and skill," Bertha said. "It will stand next to our own trophy in the case. Thank you, James."

The common room exploded with cheers and applause, and James blushed.

Sirius, Lupin, and Peter had been waiting for him when he opened the door to his room. Sirius was holding the invisibility cloak out to him.

"Now it's time for our celebration," he said, smiling.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They made their way down the corridor and up the stairs that had led to a dead end.

"Peter and I went back here during Christmas," Remus explained, "and there really is a door here. I'm not sure what exactly it does, but if you walk past it, thinking of what you need in a room, the door will appear and hold whatever you were thinking about. We tried it a few times, and it seems to work."

"What do we want?" Sirius said. "Quidditch decorations, music, lights ---"

"Sure," James shrugged, and they walked past the room, thinking of all the things that could be there for their delight.

They swiveled around at the end of the hall, and doubled back, and then one last time before the door came into place.

"Excellent," Sirius said as he pushed it open. In front of them was a large room with toy Snitches flying every which way, a table filled with tankards of butterbeer and other assorted sweets, and blaring music from all corners of the room.

"Peter, you've made up for all your other flaws," Sirius smiled, but Remus was looking worried.

"I hear something," he said. "Quick, shut the door."

James quietly shut it, and they all listened through the door to the approaching voices.

"It was a great attack," Professor McGonagall's voice came. "And two of us were killed."

"They follow Snorks," Dumbledore's raspy voice said, "and more will follow them."

"Open the door," James said, and Remus, very confused, opened it quietly. "Now walk," James instructed, and the four of them pursued the two talking teachers who were now stepping silently down the stairs.

"Who was killed?" Dumbledore asked.

"The McKinnons. We arrived too shortly, and then Loraine and Westerham were found dead. It was the Death Eaters again."

"And Marlene? Poor Marlene ---"

"No, Marlene is safe. We have her with Mad Eye at his home. Minerva, It is growing," Dumbledore said, turning a corner. The boys followed.

"What does Alastor think of all this?"

"He was there tonight, and took four of them into custody,. Those four killed themselves before arriving at the Ministry headquarters. Minerva, we have a duty to tell the children what is happening to our world."

"No, Albus. They are too young." They headed down another staircase.

"And soon they will be too old for us to help them," Dumbledore said as they turned and began walking down a corridor.

The boys struggled to keep up.

"The Order is still growing. We have infiltrated Tom's lines, and we soon will infiltrate his highest associates."

Professor McGonagall scoffed, "Albus, we cannot win this with just the Order. The Ministry has got to-"

"And the Ministry has," Dumbledore said. "Jeremiah has been very supportive of the Order. He will continue to be."

"Albus," said a new voice.

The four boys turned to look at Professor June, only a few inches away from Peter's nose.

"Yes, Michael?" Dumbledore addressed him.

"Albus, I have news from the Ministry. They seemed to have identified one of the Death Eaters. The other three did a pretty good job in disguising themselves, but this one they could recognize." He pointed to a piece of parchment. "It was Klien."

"Michael, that's impossible, it ---" Professor McGonagall trailed off, and then looked to Dumbledore. "Isn't it? He was only the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here two years ago-"

"He was a high supporter of Voldemort," June said, walking to them. The boys hastened out of his way. "One of the recruiters when this all started. They think he was in charge of killing that Muggle born off in London during the holidays."

"Oh my!" Professor McGonagall said.

"And another thing," June added. "They believe that Voldemort himself was there to kill off the McKinnons. He knew that Raymond was in the Order. Somehow, he knew."

"Raymond and his family knew the risks involved with joining us," Dumbledore said. "And all we can do is hope that no others are hurt as they were. We will need to secure the houses of the Bones's, the Figgs, the Shacklebolts, the Potters, all of them."

James felt his heart stop. The Potters? Was his dad in this Order?

Sirius looked at James, trying to appear sympathetic. But his mind was already racing. James had been right. They were going to target his family.

"We will not have any more bloodshed of the innocent," Dumbledore said, and then he took his leave of the other two. "Tell Hagrid to contact Arabella. I would like to speak with her."

James didn't say anything on the walk back to the dormitory, and he couldn't fall asleep that night. He kept looking to the window, and to the moon. How much longer before he could see those Thestrals?

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Now that Quidditch was over and exams were coming, James had nothing to look forward to except for summer. Sirius would be joining him at the Potter house this year, and this thought helped him get through the two remaining months of school. Ever since Gryffindor won the Cup, the entire school had been wanting to shake his hand. Sirius, as his best friend, was also dragged into the limelight. At least five girls could be seen staring at him at any given time. And they had good reason to. The boy James had met on the train was changing faster than any of the others. His slick black hair was constantly in his face, but in a graceful sort of way. His voice had dropped, and his shoulders were lengthening out to meet the rest of his size. As for James, he was still on the short side and wasn't planning on too much of a growth spurt. But he was still taller than Remus and Peter.

"Tell us again how you taught him that dive roll," a second year Hufflepuff fawned over Sirius as he balanced on two legs of the chair.

"Well, it was when we were in first year," Sirius said. "When me and James were just young and innocent-like."

"I doubt you were ever innocent, Black."

Sirius slammed onto four legs and looked up at the snarling face in front of him. "Oh, hello, Snivelly. Care to join us? You know --- me and the girls. You do know what girls are, don't you?"

"You think you're the greatest thing to ever grace Hogwarts, don't you?" Snape spat, his greasy hair falling into his face. "You can fool them, but you can't fool me."

"Is that so?" Sirius said, grabbing for his wand.

"Oh, don't hurt him, Sirius," a giggly third year squealed.

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried," Snape hissed.

"Oh, that's right," Sirius grinned, "I'm not the one that gets my jollies out of the Restricted Section, am I?"

"At least I know what a book is," Snape retorted, and he raised his own wand. A red spark flew out and hit Sirius over the face. A streak of blood ran down his cheek. His eyes glazed over, and his smile faded.

"You shouldn't have done that, Snivellus," he growled.

Snape smirked.

"Tonight. In the third floor corridor," Sirius snarled, his eyes still dark. He looked ready to murder Snape, "We'll have a proper wizard's duel. James is my second. I advise you to find a second as well. That is, if you've got any friends."

"I choose Mulciber as mine," Snape said dryly.

He pointed to the boy who had been handing out the boycott posters. He was a terrifying lump of a boy, his black hair falling into his chiseled, gaunt face. His beady eyes looked to Sirius. Sirius grinned an unsettling grin.

"Tonight. One o' clock," Snape added as he walked away.

"We'll be there," Sirius snarled.

"""""""""""""""""

"Snape? Snivellus? Are you mad?" Remus said as James and Sirius grabbed their robes from the drawer. "He knew more curses than the seventh years when he came here! Imagine what he knows now! And Mulciber? James, some of the professors are afraid of him! He's a terrible piece of work --- they say he's aiming to be a Death Eater --- Snape is, too ---"

"They don't scare me," James said, pulling on his robe.

"Oh, he plenty will when you're looking at him from flat on your back!" Remus turned a page in the Animagus book. "And we're getting closer to the third step of the spells. Do you want to waste a perfectly good night on getting yourself killed?"

"Yeah," James said, buttoning his robes.

"Stop whining, Remus." Sirius walked to the door, holding the Invisibility Cloak out to James. "We'll be back in a few. We're just gonna shake Snape up a bit, that's all. Don't be such a mother hen." 

Peter let out a laugh, but no one else joined in. He grew quiet.

"Give us twenty minutes," James said, opening the door. "If we're not back, then you can tell on us for all you want. All right?"

"Any last words before you die?" Remus said.

"Yeah," Sirius said as James disappeared under the Cloak. "You worry too much."

And the door shut behind them.

"Well, they can't blame this one on me," Remus sighed, going back to the book. "I warned them."

The two of them walked carefully to the third floor corridor, where they saw the silhouettes of two skinny boys waiting for them. One of them was pacing, and the other was looking steadily at the wall, deep in concentration.

"Let's make this good," James said, and took out his wand.

"I don't think they're going to show," Mulciber said to Snape.

"They'll show," Snape replied. "That air headed git wouldn't pass up a chance to fight me."

Sirius and James crept slowly to the back of Snape, and James pointed his wand at the unsuspecting boy's buttocks.

"_Incendio_," he whispered.

"Did you hear something?" Snape hissed to Mulciber. But Mulciber wasn't interested in what he was hearing. He was staring at the sight on Snape's robes. The flames were rising to his sleeve, and-

"AAAHH!" Snape batted at the flames, and Mulciber stood there, unable to use speech.

"Help me!" Snape cried.

"Are you a wizard or not," Mulciber extinguised the fire with his wand, after half of Snape's clothes had been burnt off into ashes.

"I won't stay any longer, Severus," Mulciber snarled, "Potter isn't coming." And then Snape's face turned white as he looked past his friend's shoulder.

"What now?" Mulciber snarled.

Sirius picked up a painting, despite the requests to be let down by the inhabitants. He made it dance in the air, and Snape became face to face with the jumping portrait.

"Potter!" Snape spat, and he grabbed the picture. "Potter is here. I don't know how he is, but he's here. Why don't you show yourself, Potter?"

"_Liccions!_" James whispered.

Mulciber watched in boredom as Snivellus's robes flew up and over his head.

"_Wedgions!_" Sirius chortled.

It was as if an invisible pair of hands had grabbed Snape's underwear and was pulling them skyward. Snape made a face and flew up two feet in the air. Finally, he managed to break free and fall to the ground in a heap.

"POTTER!"

"_Writtandius!_" James took his wand, sticking it outside of the cloak, and wrote in the air in green letters, "_Snivellus should wash his hair for a change_."

Snape grew a very bright red, and Mulciber gave a bit of a grin.

"What's going on up there!"

It was Filch.

"Run for it!" Sirius hissed to James, and the two of them ran off down the corridor, down the stairs, up another flight, and past the Fat Lady.

"Who's there?"

They slammed the portrait behind them and jumped up the spiral staircase three at a time. James pulled Sirius inside the dormitory room just as Professor McGonagall entered the common room.

"Hey, you're in one piece," Remus said, sounding surprised. "I was going to rent out your beds."

"Professor McGonagall's coming!" James whispered as Sirius and James dove into their beds. "Cover for us!"

"Right," Remus said as the door opened and Professor McGonagall came charging in.

"Good night, Mr. Lupin," she said, looking at him and Peter, who were sitting up wide awake.

"Good night, Professor," he replied. 

Peter stared at her, and then back at the two snoring boys across the room.

"Are Mr. Potter and Mr. Black in here with you?" she asked.

"Yes. They went to sleep about two hours ago," Remus lied. "There they are. Why, Professor?"

"We caught Mr. Snape and Mr. Nott in the third floor corridor. He had some story about Potter being out of bed?"

"No, they've been here all night," Remus said. "I've been sitting here, trying to teach Peter about Animagi all night. See?" He pointed to his book. "I find the topic very interesting."

"Y-yeah, interesting," Peter stammered.

"And they haven't gone anywhere the whole time we've been studying."

"Yeah, studying."

Professor McGonagall looked from Remus and Peter to the sleeping bodies of Sirius and James, and then back to Remus. "Very well. Sorry to disturb you. It is very late, though. I would advise you to get some rest before tomorrow." She opened the door. "And Mr. Potter, you may want to remove your shoes next time before jumping into bed in a frenzy."

"Sorry, Professor," James's muffled voice came from under his pillow.

The door shut, and the occupants of the room burst into laughter.

""""""""""""""""""""""""

Snape was very cross now, having been caught in one of their tricks for the second time. He loathed James Potter and his friends. He loathed everything about them, and he had made it his duty to trip them up at every chance he got with a spell or hex in the halls. James made it his duty to return the hexes. Four fights had broken out in the corridors between classes, and the two of them had earned a week's worth of detention by assorted teachers.

In the meantime, Remus realized how close his next transformation was. Professor June had stopped him the hallway and told him that he would be accompanying Remus down to the Shrieking Shack the next day.

"Why? What happened to Madam Pomfrey?" Remus asked. He didn't like June too well. After finding that he was suspicious of Sirius knowing about the transformations, he felt as if this man could stop them from joining him and tearing all of the hope he had left away from him.

"Well, I decided that I could do my part to the school by giving her a break," June said, smiling. "You know, before I leave."

"You're leaving, too?" Remus said, trying not to sound happy about it.

"Well, yes. Dumbledore has a job for me somewhere else. But don't worry. You'll enjoy your new teacher. No boggarts to sneak up on you next year, right?"

Remus' stomach lurched.

"Now, where does she usually pick you up?"

"Outside the Gryffindor common room at four o' clock. Knock on the Fat Lady. I'll hear you." Remus tried to add a smile, but it came off looking like a grimace.

"Let's make it three, shall we? I'd like to talk to you for a bit. Have a few words about your performance in my class?" June still had that stupid grin on his face. "What do you say?"

"Sure, okay." Remus swallowed back a bit of throw up in his throat. "All right. Three o' clock."

He was going to pump him for answers. He knew about their secret.

The next day, three o' clock had come, and Remus felt very sick. Sirius and Peter sat with him, as James was at detention with Professor Hall. The Fat Lady gave a scream, and Sirius looked at Remus darkly.

"Don't worry," Remus said weakly. "I'm not going to say anything."

Sirius didn't look too convinced.

Remus ran for the portrait and opened it to the smiling face of June. His stomachache returned.

"Hello, Remus," June said happily as Remus joined him out in the hall.

"Hello, Professor," Remus grumbled.

They walked onto the grounds and past the Whomping Willow. Remus did a double take at June, but June didn't seem to be heading for the tunnel just yet. He was walking toward the lake, where a few other students were throwing twigs at the giant squid.

"Take a seat, Remus," he said, sitting down on the grass. Remus gulped and sat down in the shade under a tree.

"What exactly did you want to talk about, Professor?" he asked.

"How long has the curse been affecting you?" June said, ignoring his question.

"About nine years. Why?"

"And how many friends have you had for those nine years?"

"Why are you asking me this, Professor?" Remus said, very unsure of what he was doing there.

"Not very many, I suppose," June said. "Must have been the greatest time of your life, coming to Hogwarts and meeting people. People that would accept you."

"Maybe we should go to the-"

"I know, as well as you do, what that Black boy saw, that day with the boggart," June interrupted him. "And I haven't told anyone, no. There would be no way to prove that he followed you down into the tunnels. But I know how fond you are of him and his little friends."

"They're my friends, too, Professor," Remus said. "And I have no idea what you're talking about. What boggart?"

"I saw your eyes, Remus," June said. "I saw your eyes. They had that same horrified look that my son used to wear."

There was a silence between the two of them, and then Remus spoke very softly, "Erm --- your son, Professor June?"

"He was like you," he said, staring out at the lake. "He was bitten when he was a child. Very young, like yourself. I tried to make him feel not any different than anyone else, but he did." He looked at Remus and smiled sadly. "It killed him in the end."

"What?" Remus gulped. He had never heard of the curse ever killing the person affected with it before.

"Society. His so-called 'friends,'" June snorted. "That's what. I've lived with the heartache that comes with being a werewolf, Remus. I know how you must hate yourself some nights. And how, no matter what, you will always be that monster inside. Yes, I know all about it, Remus."

"Well, I'm sorry for your son, Professor," Remus said, looking down at the ground. He wanted to sink into it, far away from this conversation that they were having.

"I am, too," June said quietly. "And I would like to give you a piece of advice before leaving. People like Mr. Black and Mr. Potter. You must be weary of them," he said. "They are the kind of people that stab you when you aren't looking. There is no such thing as a friend here in this world, Remus. Especially in this world that is changing."

"I don't think that Sirius or James would ever-"

"I warn you," June said. "I would not trust either of them with my life. Now the sun is setting. Better get you into position."

June stood, and Remus weakly followed him over to the Whomping Willow. Making sure that no one else could see what they were doing, June prodded the knot with a stick, and they climbed into the hole. Down the tunnel they went, Remus not wanting to talk any more to this man. Two years ago, he would have taken his word. He would have steered clear of everything and everyone, only looking out for himself. But now he felt anger boil up inside him. He would not let anything kill him. Including doubt.

He clenched his fists as he walked closer to the entrance. This was his curse. This was his nightmare. And yet, it was not his life.

"Here's where I leave you," June said. "Have a pleasant night."

"Thank you, bye," Remus muttered as he hoisted himself up into the Shack for what seemed like the hundredth time and locked the trap door behind him.

He took a seat on the couch, waiting for the moon to rise. It would be soon, very soon, when his friends would find out how to transform with him, and they would all be together again. He wouldn't be the wolf any longer. He would be Remus.

He was so tired that he wanted to drop off to sleep right then, as the sun set in the sky. Maybe that way it wouldn't hurt as much when it happened.


	26. Chapter 25: To Diagon Alley

**CHAPTER 25 **

**To Diagon Alley **

"Well, goodbye, mates," James said as he and Sirius made their way off of the platform and to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. No Sprite was in sight. And next to James' parents, talking to them, was Sirius's Uncle Alphard.

"Uncle Alph?" Sirius said as they drew closer.

The balding man turned around to face him and let out a shout of joy. "Oh, Sirius! My favorite nephew. How are you?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Come to pick up Narcissa," Alphard said, pointing at a very sour looking Narcissa. "Decided I'd surprise her when Aunt Elladora couldn't make it. Has a severe chill, she does."

"Are my parents here?" Sirius scanned the crowd.

"Yes, of course they are. Come to pick up Regulus, haven't they?" Alphard said. "But I wouldn't go talking to them. They're plenty mad."

"Why?"

"That both their sons aren't in Slytherin, of course," Alphard said. "But don't you worry. _I'm_ very proud of you."

Somehow this wasn't very comforting, coming from another black sheep of the family. Sirius forced a smile onto his face then said hello to James's parents. He snuck out of the station without being seen by either his parents or Regulus, who was no doubt telling them all of the horrible things that Sirius had done that school year to tarnish their surname.

A Ministry car was waiting outside the station, pulled up in one of the lots. Sirius found this odd, but he said nothing. They quickly jumped inside and Mr. Potter started the car.

"I've always wanted to live like a Muggle," James said. "You know, without magic? Just to see how it would be?"

"It'd be pretty boring, I suppose," Sirius said.

"Maybe." James pondered for a moment and then said, "You know what? We're passing Diagon Alley on the way home. Want to pick up those posters that we were talking about?"

"I don't know ---" Sirius started, but Mr. Potter, as happy as ever, jumped in.

"An excellent idea, James! We'll just have to make a left up here-"

"No, it's right, dear," Mrs. Potter said.

"I'm sure it's left."

"You're going to the Leaky Cauldron, right? Well, that's up here a few blocks and-"

"I am perfectly capable of knowing my way around London."

"Who's lived here all their life, dear?"

"And who's driving the car-"

"LOOK OUT, DAD!"

_BEEP!_

Mr. Potter slammed his foot on the brake as a truck almost collided with the driver's side. His hair was out of place, and he looked very frazzled.

"Dad, are you all right?" James asked, grabbing his seat.

"I'm fine," Mr. Potter said breathlessly. He changed the stick shift nervously. The car lurched forward. "Just ruddy fine."

"Dear-"

"Leave me alone for one minute while I try to figure this out. Diagon Alley."

"It's really not that important," James whispered.

"Be quiet, James," Mr. Potter snapped, and the two boys fell silent.

""""""""""""""""

They opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron. It smelled of tobacco and beer, and smoke flew all ways in the dingy room. Hags and wizards and witches all sat at small tables, drinking tankards of their favorite drink.

"Good evening, Potter," one old wizard said to James's father.

"Good evening, Nicholas," Mr. Potter replied, and they continued out the back door. In the back of the alleyway, he touched his wand to four bricks, and the wall dissolved to show a long alleyway filled with shops and stores.

Sirius and James ran past Eeylop's Owl Emporium and Ollivander's to the Quidditch store as Mrs. Potter shouted after them, "Ten minutes, boys! We need to get home! Sprite's cooking dinner."

Sirius and James rushed into the store and found themselves surrounded by shelves of balls packed together, five to a container. Toy Snitches on strings, as they had gotten in their first year. Chudley Cannons, Wimbourne Wasps, and Bulgarian and Irish uniforms and robes. An entire wall was devoted to old and new brooms of every kind, including the new Cleansweep Four.

"Hey, look," Sirius said, pointing to a sign. "Barny the Bat's coming this Monday to sign Ballycastle Bats merchandise."

James scrunched up his nose and said, "I used to like them, until those stupid butterbeer commercials. You know, the ones with that thing singing 'I'm batty about Butterbeer?'"

Sirius laughed, remembering seeing them a while ago, and agreed, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Hey James!"

James looked over his shoulder and saw a giggly fourth year girl waving to him, blushing. Right behind her was a head full of red hair.

"Oh God," James whispered, "It's Evans! Hide me, quick!"

But it was too late. Lily had turned around, and was looking at the two of them. A look of much contempt streaked onto her face, and Sirius smiled. He waved and Lily made an inappropriate gesture.

"I think she's taken a liking to us," Sirius said.

"Hold on for a minute," James said. "The Cannons stuff is over there, next to the Kenmare Kestrals' bedsheets."

Sirius nodded and went over to the red wall, covered in merchandise. Yet he didn't feel like looking for any posters. He watched over one of the shelves filled with miniature figures of Montrose Magpies Chasers.

James sauntered over to the two girls, the fourth year still giggling and turning a bright red.

"How are you doing, James?" she asked giddily, and James nodded as he walked past her and to Lily.

"Hey, Evans. What are you doing here?" he asked.

Lily shot him a glare and said, "I happen to be a fan, thanks. Like it was any of your business."

"Hey, all I'm trying to do is start a little chat, that's all," James said in surrender. "It isn't like I'm asking you out on a date or anything."

Lily turned to look at him, her eyes wide and teeth gritted.

"Not like I ever would or anything," James added, and Lily's expression grew to a glare again.

"How's Wetpants --- sorry, I mean Darryl. How's Darryl?"

"We broke up," Lily said sharply as she took a figurine of Meghan McCormack off of a shelf. "I guess you were too busy with your Quidditch to hear."

"Well, you should have seen it coming," James said. "I mean, I could tell from the start it wasn't going to work."

"Thanks for your support."

"Anytime." James mussed his hair, and then took a breath. "So-"

"Why are you still here?" she interrupted.

"Well, it is a smaller store, and I happen to like the," he took a tankard off of the wall, and examined its nameplate, "Pride of Portee, thanks. I was just here with Sirius-"

"Surprise there," she muttered.

"And what do you have against Sirius?" he demanded, slamming the tankard down.

Lily didn't look scared at all, but put her hands up, and shook. "Oh, what are you going to do? Hex me?"

It was James's turn to glare, and he balled his hands into fists. "You know what-"

"What?" Lily snapped, "It seems to be your answer for everything! Severus is still scarred from that nasty trick you and your lackey played on him! Yes, that's right! I know it was you! You and your stupid Invisibility Cloak, tricking him into thinking you actually had the gall to duel him! Well, I think it's a right down coward who would do something to such a person!"

"Why do you give a damn what I do to Snape!" James snapped back, "And further more, does he ever tell you what he does to me?"

"What does he do to you!"

"Well, "James gave a grin, "The stench alone is enough ---"

That's when Lily smacked him. Her delicate, long fingers molded together and slapped him across the cheek. James opened his mouth, and then closed it again. On the second time it worked, and he managed to spit out, "Forget it. Just --- forget it. Hope you and your next boyfriend have a nice fourth year!"

"We will, thank you!" she shouted back at him.

"Well, good!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

And James, in a huff, went back to Sirius.

"How'd it go?"

"She loves me," James shrugged, and then examined the poster wall. "Here's one of Joey Jenkins, and their motto."

"Let's just keep our fingers crossed, and hope for the best," Sirius read. "Oh, yeah. That strikes fear into my heart."

"Hey, what do you expect? They haven't won since 1892." James grabbed the poster and headed off for the register. "Let's get going. My parents are going to kill us as it is."

"""""""""""""""""""""""

It was a quiet dinner. The Potters seemed to be more uptight than Sirius had ever seen them. Mr. Potter hardly spoke, and Mrs. Potter took his lead. As for James, he seemed to be staring off into space a lot, letting the gravy fall off of his mashed potatoes and to the white carpet. Sprite would clench her fork every time she saw this, but, not wanting to interrupt the silence, she wouldn't say anything about it.

That night, James sat on the whitewashed bed as Sirius attempted to tack his poster to the wall. Joey Jenkins was smiling broadly, knocking a bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser. He knew there was a reason why he liked that poster.

"Hey, Sirius," James spoke up.

"What?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"No," Sirius said, "and I'm not planning on doing it any time soon."

"Do you think fourteen's too young to feel love?"

"I don't know." The poster fell on Sirius's head, and Jenkins let out a yelp. "I suppose so. Why?"

"Because I think I've fallen for it," James smiled, and he fell back onto Sirius's bed. "I think that I've met the girl."

"Which girl?" Sirius propped the poster back up onto the wall, tacks in his mouth.

"You know, the girl," James said, his smile broadening. "The one that I want to spend the rest of my life with. The one that I want to grow old with."

"Is it written somewhere that you have to go all mushy on me every time I visit you at your house?" Sirius asked, almost swallowing one of the tacks. "Last time it was 'I wonder how I'll die,' and now it's 'I want to get married and grow old.' What, do you not like being fourteen?"

"And do you know what her name is?" James ignored Sirius.

Sirius reached toward the upper right corner, over the Bats' nose. The Chaser sneezed. "Who?"

"Evans."

Sirius coughed as he choked on the tacks, and the poster fell off of the wall as he backed away. "Evans?! Lily Evans?"

"Yeah," James said, sitting up. "Lily Evans."

"Geroff," Sirius said, "I thought that you got over her in the second year. Don't you hate her?"

"No."

"Well, she hates you plenty," Sirius said, picking up the tacks from the ground.

"Nah, she doesn't," James said, sighing and lying back in the bed. "She's mad about me."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna be Head boy," Sirius snorted.

"Hey, anything's possible, mate," James said, closing his eyes. "Anything's possible."

The slam of a door was heard from downstairs. The boys jumped and James rolled off the bed saying, "What was that?"

"Dear, are you all right?" a hushed voice said.

"Quick, get the fireplace ready! Michael's been hurt badly!"

There was a groan from downstairs and a plopping noise to indicate that someone had been thrown onto the couch.

"What happened?"

"A few blocks from here, there was another attack on June's house. They've killed his wife. I was lucky enough to get him out of there before they got the best of them. They're growing in numbers. At least thirty of them were there tonight."

The groan came again.

"We ran back here. They may be on their way. We have to hurry. Sprite, is the Floo Powder in order yet?"

"Yes, Master Potter," Sprite said quickly. "Sprite has it all ready for Master Potter and Mister June."

"Why did you bring him back here?" Mrs. Potter's voice whispered.

"Go upstairs, Sprite." Mr. Potter's voice sounded strained as he picked up whoever had been on the couch.

Sprite's little legs carried her upstairs and down the corridor. James stretched out a hand and grabbed her around the throat. He threw her into Sirius's room. She shrieked and then blinked at James.

"Master James!" she exclaimed. "You are awake!"

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"From what Sprite knows, there was an attack on a man named Mister June a few blocks away. Master Potter and others rushed to save Mister June and Missus June from the attack. But the Order could only save Mister-"

"June," Sirius broke in. "It's Professor June!"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," a voice said loudly from downstairs, and James could hear the flames engulf the two men as they disappeared.

James stood up, opened the door, and slammed it in Sirius and Sprite's faces as they tried to follow him. He ran down the stairs and confronted his frightened mother.

"Mum, tell me what's going on!" he demanded.

"I --- James ---" she started, but James cut her off.

"What's the Order that everyone keeps talking about? What just happened? Why did Dumbledore tell June to secure our house? Why was June here-"

"James, dear, I-"

"TELL ME, MUM!"

"I can't," she said, starting to break down and cry. "I --- you're too young --- I ---"

James's face fell, and he felt a pang of guilt. His mother sank onto the couch, head in her hands.

"Oh, Mum, please don't cry," James said, sitting down next to her.

"What's happening to our family?" she sobbed. "I don't know what to do anymore. I ---"

"It's okay, Mum," James comforted her. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

Sirius watched them from the top of the stairs, hands gripping the banister. His mouth formed a firm line, and he felt his throat go dry. Never in his life had he comforted his mother. Never in his life had his mother comforted him.

Maybe that's why he didn't understand James. Sirius had never been loved before.


	27. Chapter 26: June's Return

**CHAPTER 26 **

**June's Return **

"Oi, James?"

"What?" James turned around from where Sprite was showing him a new pair of mittens in one of Diagon Alley's cloak shops.

"Is that Remus over there?" Sirius pointed at a taller boy with browning and grayish hair who was laughing with a girl outside of the wand shop.

"Yeah, I think so." James took a closer look. "Well, he got bigger, didn't he?"

"And his hair got darker," Sirius laughed. "Just to think he was that little shaking kid in first year. He looked like a kicked puppy, didn't he?"

"Hey! Remus!" James shouted, and Remus turned toward them. He grinned and ran to meet them.

"You!" he said, punching James on the shoulder and nodding at Sirius. "How are you two doing?"

"Pretty well," Sirius said. "Looking at wands, are you?"

"My last one broke," Remus said. "Care to join me? That's Elise over there. She's going into fifth year this year. Shopping for her new robes. Just became a prefect."

Elise smiled and waved at the three boys.

"Sure, we'll come along," Sirius said, smiling back, and he followed Remus and James to Ollivander's wand shop.

The room was musty and smelled of old things that none of them could recognize. Out of the darkness and shelves upon shelves of boxes came an old man with pale eyes shaped like moons. He smiled at the three boys and walked out of the mist.

"I've been waiting to see you again," he said to Sirius, "I thought that that wand was wrong for you. Of course, the wand chooses the wizard and it is hardly ever wrong, but in your case, Mr. Black-"

"I don't need a new wand," Sirius said, pointing to Remus. "He's the one."

Ollivander looked over his small glasses that were balancing atop his long nose. "Ah, Mr. Remus Lupin. Am I right? I remember every wand I've ever sold."

Remus nodded.

"I could hardly recognize you," Ollivander said. "Beechwood, seven inches, dragon heartstring, am I correct? Very good for defensive attacks, if I say so myself. Yes. You've lost it, I'm assuming?"

"No, it broke," Remus said quietly. "I was wondering if I could get it replaced."

"Of course, of course," Ollivander said. "But, as you know, no two wands are alike, I'm afraid. It will take a while to become acquainted with your new one and its powers. Let us try this one."

He had been rummaging through the shelves, and as he said it he brought out a black wand. "Unicorn hair, oak wood, thirteen inches. Give it a try."

Remus took it from him and swished it. There was a light that filled the room, and then died away. A warmth touched his hand, and Ollivander smiled.

"First try!" Ollivander said. "I knew that this would work for you. Yes, yes. Only someone of a brave and loyal heart could truthfully hold it in their hands. Unicorn hair is very pure in spirit. That is why I believed it wouldn't work for you, Mr. Black," he said, looking toward Sirius now. "Your wand also holds unicorn hair, am I right?"

"Yes," Sirius said.

"I believe it came from the same creature as this one." Ollivander pointed at Remus's wand and smiled. "Very curious."

"Every time I've come in here, he says that," James whispered to Sirius and Remus as Ollivander went to ring up the wand. "And if you ask him what's curious, he goes on and on for about ten minutes about the wonders of wands and the magic they hold. I swear, the man's been locked up a little too long in this place. Hasn't had enough contact with normal people."

Remus tried to hold a laugh back as he walked to the register to pay for his wand.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Three more days until school then," Sirius said, taking a lick of his ice cream cone as they sat outside the Leaky Cauldron. Elise had joined them for a treat as they waited for Mr. and Mrs. Potter to arrive.

"Yeah," Remus sighed. "How's the transfiguration homework going?"

"Not too well," James said. "We've been trying all summer, but it just isn't working. Still stuck on question two."

Remus nodded. Elise had no idea what they were talking about.

"So, Elise," Sirius said. "You like Quidditch?"

"Not really," she said.

Sirius's face dropped. All right, so she wasn't as perfect as he had taken her to be.

The three days passed quickly, and the boys found themselves back on the train with Peter at their side, making their way to Hogwarts. Back into the horseless carriages and then into the Great Hall, where the Sorting Hat was being set on the stool.

"Look!" James said, hitting Sirius. Sirius followed his gaze to the High Table and gasped.

Professor June had returned. And he didn't look too happy about it.

"He --- Remus said he was leaving!" Sirius said.

Just then, the doors to the Hall opened wide, and the first years marched behind Professor McGonagall to the Sorting Hat.

"Fresh meat," James sneered.

The Hat opened its mouth, took a breath, and began to sing its newest song.

Sirius felt his stomach grumble. He wanted to try the transformation again tonight.

Dumbledore stood. "Before we begin eating, I would like to welcome Professor June back for another term here at Hogwarts. However, as he has fallen into a bout of poor health, the healthier Professor Warthings" --- a smaller man with a top hat sitting to Professor June's right waved enthusiastically at the crowd --- "will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. June will hold the position of Ancient Runes."

June stood and Sirius noticed for the first time that his eyes were glazed over in a haze, and that he looked straight ahead of him as he bowed. Not at Dumbledore, not at the students --- just thin air.

"James, I think something's wrong with June," Sirius whispered, and pointed at the Professor's blank expression.

"Yeah," James replied. "You heard Dumbledore. He can't do his other job anymore."

June looked utterly depressed as he took his seat and felt around for his fork.

"You reckon he's blind?" Sirius said.

"Yes, I'm certain he is," Remus stepped in. "I overheard some of the teachers outside at Hogsmeade station. Voldemort or whoever was there that night, attacking him --- they blinded him so he couldn't see who killed his wife. They left him alive for some reason. They were planning on leaving him alive."

James felt that sick feeling in his stomach come back, and in his mind's eye he saw June patting the invisible Thestral in his classroom.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Now, let's try once more," Remus sighed as James took the floor for the hundredth time. "Picture a stag. Not a lion. Not a tiger. A stag."

James closed his eyes and sighed. The forest. He was back in the forest. Trees. Leaves. The forest.

He could see a fawn in the bushes, crouching down, staring at him. It twitched its ear and cocked its head. He feared James. Not in a human sort of way. But in a respectful way.

He pranced to the fawn and looked down upon him. He was a subject in his woods. Not in anyone else's woods, but his own woods.

He scraped his horns against a tree and continued on through the brush, to the river nearby.

"James! James, wake up!" he felt a cold hard slap on his cheek.

James opened his eyes. He was laying face up on the room floor, looking hazily at Sirius, Peter, and Remus, all leaning in above him.

"I --- I think I did it," James said. "Yeah --- I'm in the woods --- I-"

"You're not in the woods, mate," Sirius said, helping him up.

"I'm a stag."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Remus said, exasperated, and he went back to the bed where his book lay.

"I --- I'm a stag."

"No, James," Sirius said. "You're a human. You're a-"

"I'm a-"

Sirius slapped him again, and he shook his head. "Wha --- what happened?"

"Are you feeling all right, James?" Remus asked as Peter took a seat on his bed.

"Yeah," James said. "I think I did it," he said again, and he collapsed on his bed. The night turned to blackness, and he dozed off to sleep without another word.

"Maybe we shouldn't try to do this any longer," Remus said worriedly as they walked to Ancient Runes that next morning, "I mean, after what happened to James last night, and-"

"Are you kidding?" James said. "I'm perfectly fine. Just a little woozy, that's all. Did I mention that I'm a stag?"

"Yes, you've mentioned that you're a stag," Sirius growled. "You've been mentioning it ever since breakfast."

"Do you think he's all right?" Peter whispered to Remus.

"I don't know," Remus said. "I think that he may have done it a little too quickly. I've been reading that book, and it says that the first time always takes this long. But it doesn't say anything about James's symptoms. I don't know what happened to him."

"I can tell you one thing," Sirius said, as James strode into the room in front of them. "I'm pretty sure that he's a stag."

"You're late."

The four of them looked up at the teacher's desk, where June was sitting. He was holding a wooden cane. A small notch was moving up and down, as if talking to him. Listening closely, Sirius could hear it whisper to its master, "A taller boy with brown and gray hair. A fat pudgy boy with a bowl cut. A skinny boy with glasses and black hair. A taller boy with a pale complexion and longer black hair. All wearing Gryffindor robes."

"Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, I presume," June said, still looking straight ahead. "Five points will be docked from Gryffindor each. Now take your seats."

They didn't argue, seeing that June had lost all friendliness in his face, and quickly sat in their assigned chairs.

"As I was saying before they interrupted me," June continued, as Narcissa shot Sirius a demeaning look, "While I am not your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I am still much more capable in the mind than Warthing ever will find himself to be. This year, in addition to our regular lessons, we will focus on countercurses and Auror work. Dumbledore has given me permission to teach you the Unforgivable Curses. Not how to work them, not how to defend yourself against them. No, just what they are and what they do. For tomorrow, I would like you to write an essay about what you expect to learn from this class and how you will apply it to your lives after school. You have the rest of the hour to work on it. Continue."

Throughout the lesson, as the quills and parchment rustled, the cane's notch would move again, and whisper to June.

"White haired boy in the second aisle is speaking flirtingly to a blonde young lady behind him. Seems to be infatuated."

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Black, back to work," June barked, and the two of them jumped and bent down over their parchment.

"He's changed, that's for sure," Remus said as they walked out the door at the end of class.

"Wouldn't you if you lost your wife and home in one night?" Sirius huffed.

"He had lost his son before that, too," Remus said quietly.

"Huh? He had a son? I pity him," Sirius said. "How do you know?"

"His son was a werewolf," Remus said, even quieter. "That's why he liked me so much."

He didn't tell Sirius what June had said about him and James. He thought that it was probably for the best if he didn't.

"""""""""""""""""

"My turn," Sirius said. "And if I come out of this saying that I'm a stag, hex me," he added to Remus as he stood in the middle of the room.

"All right, focus and imagine," Remus said. Sirius nodded and closed his eyes.

It was London. He was in London. A cobblestone street with streetlights hung from above, and he walked into the alleyway. He was waiting for something. For someone.

He had four legs. Black hair. Large eyes. Furry tail. He was a dog.

And then he saw who he was waiting for. They sat down outside of the alleyway. They had a suitcase with them.

He was a dog.

They looked at him. They saw him.

"Sirius!"

Someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes and saw Remus above him, looking sort of worried. James was still on the bed, trying to break out of his daze, and Peter was looking in horror at him.

"Are --- are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm a dog," Sirius said, smiling. "I did it. I'm a dog."

"Don't make me hex you," Remus said, helping him to his feet.

"I'm a dog."

"""""""""""""""""""""

The teachers were loading them down with homework more than ever. Their excuse was that O.W.L.'s were approaching, and the students needed to start preparing.

"That isn't until next year!" Davey shouted out. Professor McGonagall ignored him and waved her hand. "The O.W.L.'s will determine your worth in the job force, and will also determine which classes you will take upon returning to Hogwarts in the sixth year. You can not take this too seriously."

Sirius didn't hear a word she said. James, who had returned to normality earlier that morning, poked him to keep him from drooling. The teacher that would most likely recognize the symptoms for Animagi was near, and that was the last thing they needed on top of everything else.

Professor Hall told them a funny story about her Kneazles. Then she assigned them to write an essay about Kneazles and the different kinds in England.

"She's useless, that one," James said to Remus as they walked out. "The only thing I've gotten out of her class is how to take care of Kneazles and where they're found."

The Care of Magical Creatures students were now studying flobberworms, and they had no homework. Flobberworms were especially boring, and it was a joke that if a teacher was teaching about them, they were close to getting sacked. James hoped that this would be true, since he loathed the teacher.

Professor Slughorn taught them an Aging potion, which, of course, both Severus and Evans perfected. Snape even added his own twist to the already complex spell, dashing in a bit of bat's feathers to make the aging take half the time to work. But, of course, as usual, Slughorn only praised Lily for her endeavors and acted as if Severus didn't exist. James took a bit of happiness from seeing Snivellus's face grow even more sallow than it usually was. What James didn't see was how sallow Lily's face grew when, after Potions let out, Severus decided to walk to lunch with Mulciber instead of her.

Then came Defense Against the Dark Arts. And finally their day was over with Ancient Runes.

"Why did we take this class over Divination?" Sirius grumbled as Remus led the way to June's classroom.

"Because you can actually do something with Runes," Remus said, "Trust me. It'll be worth it in the end."

Surprisingly enough, they made it on time. But June did not. After the bell had rung, he stepped into the classroom, holding his walking stick in his hand.

The stick whispered to him as he approached the desk, "Desk is a foot away. Chipped stone on the floor. Watch your step. Desk is in front of you. Chair is to your right. A little farther. Sit. Class is to the left of you. All are accounted for."

"Good afternoon, class," June said, not sounding like he was having a good afternoon at all.

"Good afternoon, Professor," they chimed.

No one thought that the class was fun anymore. They missed the sweet and sour teacher of last year. Now he had lost all good traits and was left with the bad.

"Take out your textbooks," June said, leafing through his belongings. "Read chapter four to yourself. I need a summary of every heading turned in by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Are you mad?"

"Blonde girl, fourth row. Sitting next to a black haired boy," the stick whispered.

"Polly Longsfellow, you have detention," June barked, and he sat, his stick keeping the class under a close eye.


	28. Chapter 27: Animagi

**CHAPTER 27 **

**Animagi **

It wasn't late into January when Peter finally saw himself as his animal and spent a good day walking around the school, announcing that he was a rat. The three of them now looked toward the third and final spell. They sat in the library, two seats over from Snape, who had checked out a new book from the Restricted Section. It read _Famous Fiends of the 20th Century_. He was turned to the chapter about Grindelwald, but his sour eyes were anywhere but the page in front of him. They were glaring at his wooden desk's face, his teeth gritting together.

"James," Remus said, ushering James from his stare.

"What do you reckon is wrong with Snivelly?" James said, very enthralled with seeing such a boy in such frustration.

"You didn't hear what happened last night?"

"What?" Sirius was now also intrigued.

"He barely skived himself out of suspension," Remus lowered his voice, "You know Mary Macdonald, don't you?"

"Yeah. That girl who hangs round Lily."

"Him and a couple of his mates found her alone in a corridor the other day. Avery, Darryl's twin? He was there. And Mulciber --- well, the two of them used a spell Severus'd invented ---"

"Snivellus invented a spell?" Sirius laughed.

"If you paid attention in Potions, you'd not think it such a surprise," Remus said softly, "Snape is delving into Dark Magic with dark people, and he's right good at it, too."

"What was the spell?" James said.

"_Mobilicorpus_," Remus said, "Mulciber and Avery used it on Mary, and they hung her upside down, threatening to undress her and do terrible things to her. Snape was there, laughing all the while."

James's shoulders tensed, his hands going to fists. He hated Severus Snape, the stupid git. He hated him more than he ever had before, which he hadn't thought possible.

"So how did he get out of suspension?" Peter asked.

"He got out of there before Filch showed," Remus said, "They have no proof he had anything to do with it."

"But he did," James said, "It was _his_ spell!"

The boys' conversation was interrupted by an abrupt scuffle and slamming of a book to the floor. They looked to Snape once more, who had grabbed at a passing Lily Evans, only to moments before cause her to drop her books. Lily looked to him in an agitated, tearstained glare before huffing off without her dropped things. Snape immediately gathered her abandoned belongings in his arms and followed her out.

"Lily!" he said in a strained whisper.

"Forget it, James. It's Severus Snape, what do you expect? Look here," Remus said, ushering James back into the book's illustrations, "it says that we must now physically become our animal. If we succeed in doing it once, all we need to do for the rest of our lives is picture our animal and instantly we'll be it. But for the first time, it says it's very hard. And it can still be dangerous and difficult without practice."

"So we have to really become our animal?" James said slowly. "Well, do we get to keep our minds, or do we lose them like you?"

"Professor McGonagall is always aware of her surroundings," Remus said. "It must be that you're still yourself."

"Good," Sirius said, fidgeting with a sliver that he had scraped off of the table.

"Now, who's going to try it first tonight?"

""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Lily! Please stop! I'm trying to ---"

Lily's red hair bobbed behind her, her head lowered and her hands crossed in front. She wouldn't look back at him. Why wouldn't she just give him a chance?

"Lily! What's wrong!"

"Where were you last night!" Lily threw him as she continued walking, "We were supposed to meet outside the portrait!"

"I was --- I was busy, Lily --- Filch nearly caught me ---"

"You were with _them_ again, weren't you!"

"So what if I was? I'll come tonight, Lily, I promise ---"

"Don't bother," Lily said, flipping around to face him. Her green eyes were flaring with anger, her left one twitching a bit, "Don't bother ever coming again. You're despicable, Severus! I hate what you've turned into! I don't even know you anymore! You're just as bad as the others!"

"Lily" Severus said, his heart breaking, his voice shaking, "You know me! What have I done to you? Lily, please stop walking. Please listen to me!"

Lily stopped all right. She stopped to say something very nasty to him, but saw his lost expression and grew silent. The two of them stood there for a moment, then Severus, desperate, said, "What's going on. I thought we were supposed to be friends. Best friends?"

Lily, her eyes falling back to frustrated tears and her head lowering, nodded in an apology, "We are, Sev."

Severus wanted to take her in his arms once again. He wanted to make sure she was still his --- that she still loved him ---

"But I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with!" Lily started in again, trying to keep calm. Trying to be rational, "I'm sorry, but --- I detest Avery and Mulciber! _Mulciber_?! What do you see in him, Sev, he's creepy! Do you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald?"

She leaned against a pillar, now realizing she was in the courtyard, and looked up into Sev's sallow face.

"That was nothing!" he protested, "It was a laugh, that's all ---"

"It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny ---"

"What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?" he demanded, the color rising again in his cheeks as his resentment grew.

"What! What's Potter got to do with anything?"

"They sneak out at night! There's something weird about that Lupin! Where does he keep going?"

"He's ill!" said Lily, "They say he's ill ---"

"Every month at the full moon?"

"I know your theory," Lily was growing cold, "Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are!"

Sev now realized that he was staring at Lily. Not in the way that friends stare at friends, but in the way that boys look to girls when they're worried for them. His voice had gone to that tone of affection, and his hand had wanted to raise itself to her face. The both of them were caught in this slip up, in this revelation of something neither of them had discussed, but was always playing quietly away in their minds. Lily blushed, and lowered her head.

Why couldn't Sev just be the person she knew he could be? Why did he have to pretend to enjoy the things Mulciber and Avery did? Or was he even pretending anymore?

"They don't use Dark Magic, though," Lily dropped her voice.

Severus saw it flash across her face. A distaste for him and an admiration for _them_! How could she? No, not Lily, too! Not his only friend --- the only good light in his life ---

"You're not going to ---" Severus was close to tears, "I won't let you ---"

"_Let _me?" Lily barked, "_Let _me?"

Her green eyes were slits. Severus recoiled.

"I didn't mean --- I just don't want to see you made a fool of ---" and then it came, "_He fancies you, James Potter fancies you_!" The words were wrenched from him against his will, "And he's not --- everyone things --- big Quidditch hero ---" his bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily's eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag," she said, cutting across Sev, "I don't need _you_ to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. _Evil_, Sev! I don't understand how you can be friends with them!"

Watching Lily walk from him, he had to catch himself, throw himself from what he had heard and what he had missed hearing. James Potter was an arrogant toerag! She knew it! She had known all along! She didn't have any affection for the boy at all! Oh, Merlin's beard, he had underestimated Lily Evans! He loved her more than ever!

"Lily," he said, skipping to her side, "Wait up."

"And I worry about you," Lily said, obviously not thinking the conversation was concluded. But Severus could barely listen to a word she was saying, "There's a war coming, if it already hasn't come, and soon we're all going to have to take sides. And I'm worried ---"

James Potter is an arrogant toerag.

"--- Well, Sev, your friends believe some things about ---"

She knew! She believed him! She knew James Potter was a nothing!

"--- Sev, did you know Mary is a Muggle born?"

Well, a nothing except for an arrogant toerag ---

"Severus!"

Severus stopped mid thought, and looked to her, "What?"

Lily's eyes looked into his, so deeply that he couldn't look away. They were searching for something --- something that couldn't be easily found.

"Who are you," she whispered, and walked on.

"""""""""""""""""""""

That night, James again stood in the middle of the room, waiting for instructions from Remus.

"Close your eyes."

He closed them.

"Now focus on everything that you've seen so far, and --- become," Remus added plainly, and then he lay back.

"That's it?"

"It's broad. You think that they could be a little more specific," Sirius growled.

James sighed and thought about the woods. About the fawn. About the stag. About his family. About the picture in his head of that proud animal, antlers reaching towards the sky. Chest out, hoofing the ground.

"Oh my God."

James opened his eyes. He seemed to be taller, and something was balancing on his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't talk. He started to panic, and felt his back feet ---

His back feet?

"You did it, James!" Remus exclaimed as he rushed off of his bed to stare at the magnificent creature. "I can't believe you did it so quickly!"

"I never knew stags were so big," Sirius said in awe as the three of them looked at him.

"It is you, isn't it, James?" Peter whispered.

James nodded his head. The boys, thinking that it was very funny indeed to see a stag nod his head, broke out in laughter, and James felt himself laughing as well. If deer could laugh.

Remus felt hope in his heart as he looked at the animal in front of him. It wouldn't be long now.

But it was a while before the other two could manage the third spell. James had been especially good at Transfiguration, and therefore at the task that had been given to him with the third spell. He excused himself from the now nightly practices during Quidditch season (in which he won the Cup for the team again), but otherwise was always seen in the dormitory room, watching his friends. As for Sirius and Peter, they were still struggling with it when summer hit. James tried to help Sirius with it during their holiday, and still there was no luck. Upon returning to school for their fifth year, nothing had come of it, and Remus was beginning to lose hope again.

Finally, two nights after arriving at Hogwarts, Sirius decided that he would do it no matter what.

He stood in the middle of the room and, without waiting for any instructions from Remus, closed his eyes and concentrated hard.

He was a dog. He was a dog. He was a dog.

He was black. And furry.

He remembered the cobblestone streets and the something that he was waiting for. And the streetlamps. And his hatred towards his family. And Snape. And Lily. And Elise. And June. And-

"Finally!" James burst out.

Sirius blinked. He was seeing the room in black and white. And he was shorter. He only reached the top of the bedposts. He looked down. Had it happened? Had it finally happened?

He saw paws. Black paws. He swished his tail. His tail was there! He was a dog! He had done it!

He jumped into the air and gave a happy bark.

"Shh, Sirius, you'll wake everyone up," Remus said, coming closer. He then smiled to himself and rubbed Sirius behind the ears.

Sirius backed away, and gave a small snarl. But it had felt good. Oh, had it felt good.

Remus laughed and Peter, wide eyed, knelt down and stared Sirius right in his eyes. "Wow. It's real. You're a dog."

Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Much cooler than a stag, mate," James said.

"You try transforming again, James," Remus said. "See how the two of you communicate."

Sirius hadn't thought of this before. He watched as James's figure melted into one of a stag's, and they looked directly at each other.

Neither of them could talk. He had expected to be able to talk in their minds or something, but no such luck. They were in animal's bodies, and no magic was going to help them here.

James transformed back and then shook his head. "Nothing. There's no way."

Remus sighed. "I knew we would hit a snag," he said.

Sirius thought about his human body and felt himself grow. He could see color in a few moments, and he walked toward his bed to lie down.

"This just leaves Peter," he said.

"Let me give it a try now!" Peter ran to the center of the room. "I'll do it. A rat. A rat. A rat."

"Stop before you hurt yourself," Sirius said, still very happy about his ability to transform. He could do it! It had taken him three years, but he had done it.

"Maybe we should go to bed now," Remus yawned. "It's two in the morning. Tomorrow night, all right?"

Peter nodded and trudged over to his bed, giving a small glare to Sirius and James.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus announced that the full moon was on the night before Halloween this month, and that they had about a week to teach Peter to become a rat.

Sirius wouldn't have thought it too hard. He was already a rat in real life. It wasn't like he was turning into an eagle or anything.

"Give me one last chance," Peter pleaded as Remus shut the book and blew out his candle, "I can do it! I can!"

"Maybe tomorrow," Remus said.

"No! Now! Let me do it now! I know I can do it! I know I can!"

Remus shrugged. "_Lumos._" The candle was bright again, and Sirius and James groaned.

"Now come on!" Sirius said. "It's late. We want to go to bed."

Peter didn't listen to them. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He grew purple in the face and bit his lip.

"I think he's going to have a seizure," Sirius whispered to James.

Remus gave them a look.

"Look," James pointed to him. "He's shrinking!"

Peter's body was as big as a matchbox now, and his nose was growing out. A tail was forming. Wormtail, from his post atop the bed, squeaked and drew closer to the newly forming rat. Peter's eyes grew beadier, and his front teeth jutted out. Soon, he was fully a rat. He had done it.

He squeaked at Wormtail, and Wormtail squeaked back.

"Hah! He's talking to it," Sirius laughed, and knelt over his bedpost to see the two rats conversing.

"Does he know how to come back?" James asked.

"We've discussed it before, yes," Remus said.

It was a while before Peter reappeared in the middle of the floor, looking happier than he had ever been in his life.

"We're ready to go," he said jovially, standing up. "I did it!"

"This is great!" James said. "Okay, now we'll practice on communicating later. But for right now, we're going to plan on the night before Halloween for our first try at this, all right, Remus?"

"Yeah, all right," Remus said. "Pomfrey's going to walk me down this time again, so she won't stay at the entrance very long. Wait until she's out of sight, transform, put the Cloak on, and-"

"Wait a minute," Sirius said. "There's no possible way that we all three are going to fit under that Cloak as animals."

"Well, you and Peter can transform, and I can drape the cloak over us," James said. "When we get down in the tunnel I can transform."

"Good idea," Remus said, nodding. "Now, once you get in there, don't be scared of me. I can't hurt animals. Remember that. And under any circumstances, do not become human. I'll kill you."

"Is that a threat, Lupin?" Sirius smirked.

"Look, I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No one's going to be hurt. It's gonna go fine." James mussed his hair, and then ducked into bed. "Now, once we get in the tunnel, we'll stay all night with you. When the sun rises, after you transform, we'll all go back to human. Then we'll go back through the tunnel and elude any oncoming teachers, all right? They'll never know."

"Sounds foolproof to me," Sirius said, rubbing his hands together. "Actually, it sounds like a challenge."

"""""""""""""""""

The night came a week later. They waited with Remus as usual in the common room, and after a while the Fat Lady screamed. Remus winked at them and headed off out of the portrait hole with Madam Pomfrey.

James, Sirius, and Peter all ran upstairs to their dormitory room and looked out the window down at the Whomping Willow. The sun was setting. They saw the two of them cut across the grounds and towards the hole. Pomfrey made sure that no one was watching before tapping the knot with her stick, then ducking into the ground with Remus by her side. Remus seemed a lot more eager tonight.

"Wait until she's gone," James said, and a few minutes later, Pomfrey returned, heading for the school again.

"Is the coast clear?" James asked.

Sirius scanned the scene. "I think so," he said, and the three of them ran for the trunk by James's bed.

"All right, it's time for you two to change," James instructed as he pulled out the Cloak. When he looked back at them, Sirius and Peter had been replaced with a rat and a large black dog. The dog smiled.

"Ready?" he asked them, and they both nodded. "This is too wicked," he muttered as he draped the Cloak over them. Peter jumped onto Sirius's back, and Sirius stood next to James, paws thumping on the marble staircase as they descended to the main doors.

Out into the grounds they went, closer and closer to the tunnel. Peter jumped off of Sirius's back when they reached the Willow and scurried through the violent branches to the knot. He touched it carefully, and the Willow froze.

"Come on," said James, and he ushered the two of them into the hole, and into the tunnel.

It was dark, and all James could see was the glowing eyes of Sirius. He handed him the Cloak, and Sirius held it in his mouth as James transformed into a stag. Then Sirius set the cloak neatly on James's back, and they continued down the tunnel and to where Remus waited. The sun hadn't set yet, so they weren't expecting him to be ready.

When they got to the trapdoor, they realized that they had a problem. Sirius looked up at James, and then back at the door. James shrugged as only a deer could shrug, and then Peter ran up James's leg, onto his back, up his neck, and onto his top antler. With a great shove, the trap door moved a bit. There were footsteps, and then light illuminated the tunnel. There stood Remus, smiling.

"Hey," he said. He let them in, Peter jumping off of James's antlers, Sirius leaping, and James, with some difficulty, prancing into the living room.

"The moon's about to come," he told them. "Now please don't be frightened." He looked at the big black dog, and then back at the stag. "Hopefully I'll be myself like we thought."

And they waited. Sirius curled up on the floor and James went to stand by the trap door, as if guarding it. Peter was scurrying in and out of walls, exploring the hidden passageways now open to him. But none of them dared change out of animal form. They knew what Remus would become. They were ready.

"It's starting," Remus informed them as the moon's light caressed the boarded up windows, "It's-"

He grew rigid, and then looked at the three of them in horror. He dove behind a doorframe, still convulsing. They could hear screams of pain for perhaps forever, though it seemed like much longer, and then Remus reappeared. He was a wolf.

At first, it seemed as if it hadn't worked. The wolf glared at Sirius and bared its teeth, but then James stepped proudly forward and got its attention. The tiny pupils glazed over, and Remus blinked. It had worked. He was in control now. Somehow --- he had beaten it.

Oh, he could still feel the wolf's mind, but it wasn't as strong. It wasn't as loud in his. He was the dominant one now! He was powerful!

Blood. He could smell blood.

James stepped forward again and snorted, as if to warn him. Remus shook his head, then stepped back. The wolf would not take control this time. He had his friends with him now. They wouldn't let him die.

Sirius smiled and looked at James, who was also grinning. Remus grinned back, and if they could have laughed, they would have. Peter squeaked from the floor, and ran into one of the farthest corners of the room, staring at the large wolf in front of him.

Remus made a motion that it was safe, and he edged his way closer. James pointed his nose to the staircase leading up, and the other three followed him. They were going to explore tonight.

Sirius bounded ahead, wagging his tail. He sniffed the air, then let his tongue loll out. He actually made a pretty fair dog, James thought, as they stepped into one of the rooms. There was a large mattress there, and Sirius curled up on it, tail still wagging. Remus followed and playfully nipped Sirius's ear. Sirius took up the challenge, growling at him. They circled each other, James and Peter watching, before lunging and wrestling each other to the ground. Sirius smiled darkly as Remus went tumbling over him.

_Come on, is that all you got?_ Sirius thought happily.

Remus returned the smile before he lunged again.

This carried on for some time before James noticed a mirror on the opposite wall. He had never seen them as animals before. He was tall, so tall that his antlers almost scraped the ceiling. But his eyes were the same. Remus and Sirius were very distinguishable, even though both of them were dogs. Remus was brown, and skinnier, but looked more dangerous than Sirius. Sirius was larger and as black as the night.

Soon they were both panting, and they decided that they had wrestled long enough. Peter was clapping his little rat hands as fast as he could, standing on his two hind legs. James would have laughed if he could. The sight was ridiculous. Sirius and Remus touched paws as if in a shake, then walked over to James as if to ask, "What next?"

James shrugged and headed out of the room. Peter followed the larger three. Into the next room they went; it seemed to be the loo. Peter, not being able to see the top of the toilet, jumped on it without realizing there was no lid. With a splash, he landed inside and coughed.

Sirius, getting that dark look again, walked over to the flush knob, and put his paw up to it. He smiled at James, and James nodded malevolently. Peter squeaked as Sirius lowered his paw, and a whirlpool broke out all around the little rat. Peter sprung up from out of the toilet, and shook himself, glaring at Sirius. Sirius seemed to be chuckling to himself. Remus shook his head in disdain and continued to look around. It seemed as if he was seeing all this for the first time, as well as the others.

James, deciding that he had seen enough of the bathroom, continued on down the hallway, the other three following him again. He peered inside each room until he came to one that particularly didn't set with him.

Sirius followed his gaze to the wall of one of the sitting rooms and fell on the floor, barking with laughs. There was a stuffed deer head mounted above the abandoned fireplace.

Remus grinned as he looked from James to the head, and they continued on.

They found that the upper floor had four rooms, two of them bedrooms, one of them a sitting room, and then the loo. The lower floor had three rooms: the kitchen (which was stripped of any appliances whatsoever), the living room, and a parlor (filled with dried foods, supposedly for Remus).

It wasn't long until they realized that the sun was rising, and Remus ducked into the parlor to transform. He had gone a whole night without losing his grip on his mind. He had found the cure! He was going to be all right!

When they saw that Remus had changed back into human, and was untouched by blood and scratches, they all smiled at each other. They had done it. They had beaten the curse.

"It's all right," Remus said, motioning to the three of them. "You can change back now."

In front of his eyes he saw his three friends melt out of the forms of a stag, a dog, and a rat. Peter, who still smelled of a urinal and was drenched, glared at Sirius.

"Thought it was funny, did you?" he said, teeth chattering.

Sirius laughed a laugh that sounded a lot like his bark and looked at Remus. "So it worked out, right? You were there with us?"

"Yeah, I was there!" Remus said gleefully. "I was me."

"That went smoother than I thought it would," James commented as they grabbed the Cloak and draped it around themselves. "So, we'll be seeing you inside."

"Yeah," Remus said.

"Happy Halloween, Remus," Sirius said as he disappeared under the Cloak. The trap door opened, then shut.

Remus, very content with life in general, sat down on the couch to wait for Pomfrey to retrieve him. She was going to be surprised when she didn't have to whisk him off to the hospital wing!

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey opened the trap door and stared at the unscathed boy sitting happily on the couch.

"Hello, Madam Pomfrey," he said, standing up to meet her. Her eyes were wide with confusion. "Happy Halloween. I feel like going to my first class today. Am I allowed to?"

Madam Pomfrey quietly nodded, and Remus led the way down through the tunnel and out past the Willow.

"""""""""""""""""""""

"Why does it have to be written in blood?" Peter asked nervously as Sirius brandished a sharp quill and a piece of parchment. They were still snacking on the foods they had saved from the Halloween feast, and were now curled up on their beds, reliving their last adventure.

"Because that way it's legit," Sirius explained, waving the quill. "Who wants to write it?"

"You better," James said, biting into a Pumpkin Pasty. "You've got the best handwriting."

"Whatever." Sirius went to prick his finger, but stopped to think. "You know, on second thought, how about we just make the ink red? No one will know the difference."

He took out his wand and pointed it at Remus's ink bottle. The black turned maroon colored.

"Beautiful!" Sirius dipped the quill, and put it to the parchment. "So, how do you start a decree?"

"How about this?" James said, swallowing his food. "We solemnly swear-"

"That we are up to no good," Sirius finished for him. "Perfect." He wrote it out, tongue between his teeth. "Now what?"

"Better put the date," Remus said. "It's October thirty-first, 1975."

"But we've got to make it sound all fancy and declarational!" Sirius said. "How about 'on this fortnight of so on and so forth'?"

"Sure," Remus agreed, and Sirius wrote.

"And now what?"

"The four Marauders-"

"Nice word," Sirius commented James.

"Thank you. I like it myself," said James. "The four Marauders agree to follow each other until death do us part."

"Sounds like a wedding vow," Sirius said.

"Just write it."

Sirius scrolled it out. "And now, my turn. We also agree to always keep secret the," he paused, and lifted the quill, "Great Power."

"Very biblical," Remus said.

"The Great Power that we possess," Sirius said. "But there's something missing. What are we missing? Oh, yes," he wrote, "dot --- dot --- dot, and one more thing." He had a menacing glow to his face as he scribbled, "To make Snivellus's lfe during and after Hogwarts a living hell."

"You spelled life wrong," Remus pointed out.

"Don't get picky, I'm not rewriting the whole thing out again," Sirius barked. "All right, now we better sign this thing to make it official. But we can't use our real names."

"Why not?" Peter asked.

"Now come on, don't be so dim," James said. "What if one of the teachers or someone like Darryl picked it up and started reading it? Do you want to get questioned on what the Great Power is?"

"We should come up with codenames. Nicknames, sort of," Sirius said, "Like something to do with our animal, maybe?"

"Well, I know Remus's," James said. "Moony!"

They laughed, and Remus agreed that that would be his. They then turned to Peter, who was now holding his rat.

"How about Wormtail?" Sirius suggested.

"What about him?" Peter asked, patting Wormtail on the head.

"No, you git," Sirius snapped. "You. Your nickname is Wormtail."

"Fine with me," Peter said. "And what about you?"

"Padfoot," James said quickly.

"What?"

"Well, you can't really be called 'Rover' or anything, can you?" he said.

"Fine, whatever," Sirius said. "And that just leaves you, Stag. What's special about a deer?"

"Long neck," Remus said. "Hoofprint?"

"Don't be daft," James said. "The antlers are the greatest thing about it. Make it something to do with the antlers."

"What about Prongs?" Sirius suggested, and James snapped his fingers, looking excited.

"Perfect! So we have --- Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."

"Now let's sign," Sirius spoke while he wrote. "Signed in no significant order, Padfoot."

He handed it to the left of him, and Remus took the quill. He wrote "Moony."

He handed it to James, who wrote "Prongs."

And finally, to Peter, who wrote with a shaking hand, "Wormtail."

They stared at the paper, glistening red in the starlight.  
_  
We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. On this fortnight of _ _October 31st, 1975__, the four Marauders agree to follow each other until death do us part. We also agree to always keep secret the Great Power that we possess. Oh, yes --- and one more thing. To make Snivellus's lfe during and after Hogwarts a living hell._

Signed (in no significant order),

Padfoot  
Moony  
Prongs  
Wormtail


	29. Chapter 28: A Trip to Hogsmeade

**CHAPTER 28 **

**A Trip to Hogsmeade **

Now the world was open to the four friends. They were planning their next great adventure for November, and Remus found the full moon exciting now that he knew that he would be safe from the wolf. Yes, he had felt the wolf inside him at all times, but he was free of its reign over his mind. He was in charge. He could walk a little taller now.

Fifth year, as Mundungus had warned Sirius before he left, was the worst year. O.W.L.s were to be taken at the end of the second term, but the teachers were preparing them all in advance. Mounds of homework were stacked upon the tables in the common room, and it seemed that everyone was about to have a nervous breakdown.

Arlene Stebbins, a chubby girl with her hair always in a tight bun, was rarely seen outside of the library, copying notes and memorizing charms and spells. Snape was constantly dipping his nose into his textbooks. Even Davey could be seen reading from time to time. But Sirius and James didn't touch a single page. Remus tried to get them to study, but it seemed they had better things on their mind.

Ever since becoming Animagi, their heads had inflated. Well, who could blame them? Ever since Halloween of first year, everyone thought that they were the height of cool. Not to mention that James had now won the Quidditch Cup for two consecutive years, and that Sirius was the "stud" of the school, as a second year girl pointed out bluntly one day. They made top grades in their classes, and had moved on to not just hexing Snape and a few other chosen Slytherins in the hallways, but anyone who annoyed them. Peter would clap every time that this happened, and Remus would quietly duck back behind his book, reading.

It seemed the only three in Hogwarts who weren't fooled by the two were Snape, Lily, and June. And that was perfectly fine with Sirius, seeming that he hated all of them with a passion.

Professor McGonagall told them before Christmas that they would be getting Career Advice soon from their respectable Head of House, and they should begin to think about what they wanted to discuss.

This was the subject of conversaion while the four of them waited for Madam Pomfrey to collect Remus for November's transformation.

"I'm looking into professional Quidditch," James said unsurprisingly.

"Come on, now," Sirius said. "Be reasonable. Do you know how many Quidditch players there are in the world? Not many that are professional and not starving."

"And what are you planning to do?" James asked.

"Be an Auror, of course," Sirius said. "I'm not a black sheep for nothing. How about you, Moony?"

Remus shrugged and muttered something.

"What?"

"A teacher," he said a little louder, and all of them stared at him.

"Why by Merlin's beard would you want to be a teacher?" Sirius said.

"Well, I enjoy tutoring people, and I think that it would be a safe job for me to do," Remus said. "You know, contact with my students, but not at night?"

"I think I want to be a Ministry worker," Peter chimed in. "My dad is. He reckons I'd be good at it."

"Hey, Padfoot," James said, throwing a pillow at Sirius. "You coming to my house for Christmas this year?"

Sirius hesitated before shaking his head.

"Why not?" James was surprised. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to explain it to him.

"Well, I got a letter this morning from Mum," Sirius said disdainfully. "And she says she wants me to come home and 'have a little chat' with them."

James scrunched up his face. "Eck. Sounds like they're going to try and reform you."

"And all I have to say to that is 'good luck,'" Remus snorted.

"Yeah, it's the day that I kill myself that I end up like any of them," Sirius said, and sank into the chair.

"Oh! How dare you!" the Fat Lady shouted.

Remus stood and walked to the portrait hole. "See you guys," he said.

The three of them nodded and walked up to the dormitory room to retrieve the Cloak.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The door to the Shrieking Shack had never been opened. The villagers swore that it never would be. And they weren't awake to see it do so.

The hinges creaked, and the moonlight came rushing into the living room of the Shack. The four animals that had been hiding in the darkness blinked and tried to shield their eyes. Remus felt the hair on his back stand on end, and the wolf try to submerge from the depths of his mind.

_Oh no you don't_, Remus mentally snarled at it, and it retreated back into the depths of consciousness.

The four staggered out the door onto the overgrown lawn, through the gate, and onto the main road.

Moony stood between Prongs and Padfoot, while Wormtail stayed in front, sniffing around for danger. Once in a while he would find a rat friend and stop to speak to it. At this, Padfoot would growl at the foreign rat, and it would go scampering away. Down the street they went, past the closed Three Broomsticks, Zonko's Joke Shop, and Madam Bellna's Divination Supplies. It was like the world had been set on a silver plate and handed to them. Everything was free to roam, explore, discover!

Moony pointed to a window full of mirrors, and the friends followed his finger. There, in the midst of the different sizes and shapes, was an ordinary looking plate of glass. But instead of reflecting a stag, a dog, a wolf, and a rat like all the others did, it reflected four boys, all of them on four legs; James and Sirius flanking Remus, and Peter in front of them. They smiled at their reflections.

_Truth Mirror,_ it was labeled underneath.

Padfoot then pointed out another mirror next to it, and Prongs took a few steps back out of shock. They were all older, more matured. They were actually --- adults.

_Fortune Mirror_, it read.

Prongs didn't like this window too much, and he headed off down the road, following Wormtail.

Past the Hog's Head they went, past Viquor's Potions and Brews, past a lovely little café, and finally to the outskirts of town. Moony shook as the moonlight hit him even harder, and he signaled to the others that he needed to get back before he lost control. Prongs understood immediately, and pushed Wormtail in the wrong direction by biting his tail and carrying him to the rear. Wormtail squeaked at him, then scurried off in front of them. Padfoot stayed closer to Moony as they made their way back through the village. The wolf was beginning to convulse again. He could smell blood. He could.

He lashed out at Padfoot, and Padfoot bit him back.

Moony let out a howl and went for Padfoot's throat. Prongs jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Remus resurfaced after a few minutes, and they let him back up. Back through the gate, up the unkempt lawn, and through the opened door.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"That was bloody brilliant last night," Peter said, walking alongside Remus, Sirius, and James. They were on their way to Potions. "You fancy that we're going to do it again?"

Remus shuddered. He had lost himself for a moment there. Even with them there, he had forgotten himself.

"I think we'll stay inside for a while," James said, glancing at Remus.

"What? You call that house interesting?" Sirius said. "We need to get out and explore! I've been thinking --- we could map out the entire school as those characters. You know, a magical map."

"Not just yet," James said. "We still need to get Remus accustomed to us being there."

"You two are big enough that you can control me," Remus said. "It's perfectly safe."

"Whatever," James gave in. "The school it is, then. After break. In January."

"It's a date," Sirius said.

"Oi! Jepsons! Move it!" James took out his wand and pointed it to a first year that had bumped into him. Soon the boy was holding his face, which had turned splotchy with red spots.

Winter came quickly to Hogwarts, and soon the children were retreating inside the castle to stay warm. That is, the children except Davey and his friends. They were still on about the Whomping Willow game. Remus was watching outside as a branch hit him square across the face, and he fell to the ground, holding his eye.

After that incident, Professor McGonagall forbid anyone to touch the tree or go within thirty feet of it. Davey had worn a patch over his left eye for a week while Madam Pomfrey's magic healed the scratch. In the meantime, the Slytherins were having a good time calling him "Matey."

O.W.L.s were drawing nearer, and Remus began studying almost as much as Snape (who James was still taking the liberty of hexing every chance he got, Snape hexing him constantly in retaliation). Lily Evans had fallen into the group of giggly girls, and Sirius couldn't stand her even more. But he sat there hours upon hours listening to James fawn over her at night (when they weren't out exploring the castle for things to do in January's adventure).

Quidditch had begun once again, and James had become the hero --- again. June could be seen in the stands with his stick, which whispered to him all of the action in front of him. Even what the spectators were doing was hissed by the notch, and it sometimes caused quite a disturbance.

Sirius was happier than he had ever been in his life, and he sort of forgot what horrible things awaited him over Christmas. But before he knew it, he was carrying his trunk out onto Platform 9 ¾ to meet his parents. James walked to Mr. and Mrs. Potter to greet them, and Sirius waved at them, wishing once again that he could go home with them. Mr. and Mrs. Black were not too happy as Sirius and Regulus made their way over to them. They actually didn't say a word all the way home.


	30. Chapter 29: Toujours Pur

**CHAPTER 29 **

**Toujours Pur **

They had seated Sirius in the living room, closest to the hearth. Regulus was smirking from the kitchen door. His mother, father, and Aunt Elladora (who was accompanied by a sour faced Narcissa) sat opposite him on the couch. His mother's foot tapped the carpet in rhythm with her anger, and his father, under his short black hair, had his mouth pursed into a firm line.

"Sirius, we wished to talk to you about your behavior before you return to Hogwarts," Mr. Black said. "I will not tolerate my son consorting with such-"

"Filth. Half breeds," Mrs. Black cut in. "It's a disgrace. Your cousin here says that you are never seen without that Potter boy."

"Now we have tried to be civil," Mr. Black said. "But it has gone too far. My son, a lapdog for a blood traitor-"

"He's _not _a blood trai-"

"You dare to speak when your father is talking to you?" Mrs. Black screeched. "You insolent boy! We have put a roof over your head, fed you, clothed you, given you everything that you ever wanted --- and this is the thanks we get? Your cousin writes us telling us that you are consorting with the Potters, and a boy who has a Mudblood for a father! Not to mention all of the other filth that resides in that Gryffindor Tower."

"We told you to speak to Dumbledore about a re-sorting. About going into Slytherin. But you didn't, did you? You decided you were going to be clever and forget your lineage. Toujours Pur, Sirius."

Sirius snorted, and Aunt Elladora took her turn on him. "You ungrateful little wretch! These two have supported you your entire life, and you never listen to them! Look at Regulus! Now he's listened. He has the right sort of friends! And look at you! One would think that you would learn."

"What?" Sirius barked. "I don't want to be like Regulus! I'm tired of you three trying to-"

"Sit back down, young man!" Mr. Black shouted. "I don't care what you're tired of and what you're not tired of! We're tired of your behavioral problems! We're tired of Narcissa reporting to us all of the unspeakable things you're doing at school!"

"Then maybe Narcissa should shut her yap," Sirius retorted, glaring at her.

"I just care for you, Cousin," she sneered, and Aunt Elladora patted her on her head. "Now see, Narcissa means well, Sirius-"

"No she doesn't!" He stood again and balled his fists. "None of you do. You just don't want me going around and embarrassing you! You don't give a damn about me! You never did!"

Bellatrix appeared behind Sirius, smirking. She would be coming to Hogwarts next year. He quickly wondered where Andromeda had gone off to.

"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Black screeched. "I am telling you that if I ever hear from either of your two cousins that you have been around those blood traitors --- around any Gryffindors --- there will be hell to pay on your part. Understood?"

Sirius glared and, without answering, ran to the staircase and up into his room. A writing desk was sitting there, and he saw the piece of parchment that he had brought back from school. They had all decided that he would hold onto it.

He opened a drawer, and stuffed it in. They didn't know how clever he was. They didn't outrank him. He was an Animagus. He had conquered a werewolf. He was going to be an Auror.

On his wall, there was a long tapestry. He didn't understand why they had set it there. It didn't belong in his room. His parents' room always sported it --- why was it here?

It was the family tree. It read: _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Toujours Pur_. He found himself under his parents' names (Orion and Walburga), next to Regulus. And then, under Aunt Elladora and Uncle Alphard, there were two names and a burn mark.

Burn mark. Narcissa Black. Bellatrix Black.

Andromeda had been blown off the map.

She had been disowned.

He smiled. She had gotten out of it. She had escaped this hell.

""""""""""""""""""

Christmas was a terrible time. No presents, no plum pudding, no nothing. All he got out of his lovely holiday was some extra practice with his Animagus form and an explanation on how Andromeda had gotten blown off the family tree.

He had secretly written her later the night of his arrival, and she had written back, explaining it all. She had married a Muggle-born named Ted Tonks, and she'd had a child with him. Nymphadora was the new baby girl's name.

Sirius wrote back his congratulations, and then waited for a reply that never came. He hated his family more than ever. He hated them all. The entire house was a constant reminder of everything he didn't want to be, but was expected to become. If it hadn't been for the letters coming from James, he would not have survived.

He also was reading all of the books in the house to try to figure out how to begin a map that would show the entire school building and its inhabitants. He had begun to draw up something that he thought may be fun to work with.

In the meantime, he had been scraping up loose papers from the house and scanning the headlines for anything that may have something to do with Death Eaters. Ever since their Animagus feat, he hadn't been hearing very much about what was happening. But that didn't mean that they had ceased to exist.

He thought he felt his dinner rise to the back of his throat as he saw a new addition to the Daily Prophet. An obituary, just for the victims of Lord Voldemort and his followers. He didn't recognize most of the names, since he usually didn't associate with Muggle-borns outside of school (thanks to his parents). He was off to become an Auror, and Dumbledore had told him that he could reference him to a friend. Dumbledore was willing to help anyone that would become an Auror and go off to school to learn about it. He would fund them, sponsor them. _Probably trying to get people away from the Dark Side, _Sirius thought.

He soon found himself tearing out the obituaries and posting them on his wall, as in sort of a memorial. As for his family's reaction, they thought Voldemort had the right idea about things. None of them had joined with the Dark Lord as far as Sirius knew, but he knew that they gave their full support to the cause.

And now with Andromeda gone, it left him alone in a den of wolves.

Every day the obituaries got longer. Every day they branched out farther, into Scotland and Ireland, eventually spilling over the English Channel and into France. There was no stopping this force that had begun to take shape.

There were a few articles in which it reported that just to utter his name would provoke him to kill the one who uttered it. Out of fear, or maybe out of superstition, the Daily Prophet stopped running Voldemort's name, and began referring to him as "You-Know-You" and "He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named," along with some other odd names.

It seemed that the Ministry wasn't taking it seriously enough. Minister of Magic Hodges was a blubbering idiot that took all of his advice either from Dumbledore or from Bartemius Crouch, a high-ranking member of Magical Law Enforcement. Crouch seemed, as his name suggested, a little crotchety.

He was quoted saying, "I will not rest until all of You-Know-Who's supporters, followers, and worshippers are either dead or locked behind bars and our world is returned to order."

Sirius knew that Voldemort was growing in power, and he was looking to do more than kill off a few Muggles and wizards of impure blood. He was after something larger and greater than a genocide.

The first day back was filled with activities for James. Most of them revolved around Quidditch. Their first game was to be the next Saturday against Slytherin, and he had to be ready to take them on.

Dennis was in his final year, and the slot of Team Captain was to be open in the fall. Dashings, Jorkins, and Grudgins had all moved on into the real world, leaving spots open for newcomers Geraldus Diggle, Janice Avery, and Deborah Blunkins to take their place on the field.

"Please let us just win the last one," Dennis begged them after practice. "I want to leave Hogwarts with a good taste in my mouth. I've never seen a better team since the one in '71, when Jorkins joined. A little ditzy, yes --- and a large mouth when it came to gossip, but yes, could she fly."

Sirius had grabbed James after the practice and dragged him to the lake, where the other two were waiting for them, holding a new book. There was something shiny on Remus's cloak. It was some sort of a badge.

"What's that?" James asked.

Remus looked from the badge to him, and then back at the badge. "I'm a prefect, Prongs. I have been since fall. I told you, didn't I?"

James had been so caught up in the transformations that he had forgotten all about it. He laughed. "You, a prefect?"

"I think Dumbledore intends me to keep you three in line," Remus said, and he gave a bit of a sickened smile, "Good luck to me, I suppose."

"Did you return the Animagus book to the library yet?" James asked him as he sat down.

"Yeah," Remus said gloomily. "We have an overdue charge of about forty sickles. I told her it got lost, but I don't think she believed me."

"Show him the new book, Moony," Sirius said, leaning back in the shade.

Remus turned to the cover, and James read _Enchanted Maps of the Twentieth Century. _

"Yeah? What about it?" James said.

"Now come on, Prongs!" Sirius looked at him. "Remember what I was telling you before break? About possibly starting to map out the school? Well, I've been looking into the spells and I've come up with a brilliant idea. We make it tell where everyone is, and how to get into the secret passageways."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Remus said. "The spells aren't that hard."

"Sure," James said. "We can explore next full moon."

And the full moon came. As soon as Remus had turned into a wolf, they made their way back through the tunnel, up the hole, and into the grounds. They had an idea of where to start, and so they walked around the school, trying to get a thought on what the exact shape of the outside was. Then they paraded the grounds, making sure that Hagrid didn't notice them. At last they knew sunrise was fast approaching, so they ducked back into the hole, through the tunnel, and into the living room.

After returning to their room, Sirius, James, and Peter picked up a piece of parchment and quickly drew the form of Hogwarts. Then the Whomping Willow, and the tunnel leading off of the page. Next came Hagrid's Hut and the Forbidden Forest.

"There we go," Sirius said. "Here before us is the beginnings of greatness, mates."


	31. Chapter 30: Snape's Worst Memory

**CHAPTER 30 **

**Snape's Worst Memory **

"Potter!"

James turned around, and faced a newly hexed Snape, his red mohawk screaming "God save the Queen" at top volume. He was glaring at James from the entrance of the Potions room.

"Well, you shouldn't have bumped into me," said James. "You'd think you'd learn after a while, Snivelly."

Snape's pale face turned red with anger, and he grabbed his wand and pointed it at James. There was a flash of pain from James's stomach as an invisible force socked him one. He fell back, gasping for breath. Snape smiled as he waltzed over to look down at him. He was flat on his back.

"Not so strong when the rest of your gang aren't around, are you?" Snape snarled. "See you in Transfiguration."

And with that, he stalked away, leaving James to try to catch his breath on the floor. Some of the class that was still exiting the room looked down at him, wondering what on Earth he was doing on the floor.

"Hey, Prongs, what are you doing down there?" Sirius's face appeared next to the ceiling.

James, finally getting a hold of his breathing, stood up, still shaking.

"Oh, he's gonna pay," he gasped. "He's gonna pay for that one."

""""""""""""""""""""""""

The second half of fifth year flew by very fast, and James found himself walking towards the changing rooms for his last Quidditch game of the season. But he was met with disappointment. Dennis was sadly telling the team that they would have to forfeit.

"What? Why?" James asked as he closed the tent flap behind him.

"Avery has a broken leg," Greasings said. "She's up in the hospital. Was practicing late last night and fell."

"We have no Seeker," Dennis said. "There hasn't been a game without a Seeker since the World Cup of 1612 in which they mistook a goalpost for a player."

"Well, then can't we find an alternate?" James asked.

"We don't have any reserves this year," Dennis said.

"Then one of us can be Seeker."

"What?" Diggle said. "Are you nutters? Who here is small enough to do that job?"

James grinned a slight grin, and then looked at Dennis. "I know how to play Seeker, Dennis. And there are two other Chasers. Just leave the Snitch to me, and I promise that we'll win."

"It's never been done before," Dennis said. "Just two Chasers?"

"Is this another plot to get your name heard through the school?" Graham snorted.

"No, it's a plot to get all our names on the trophy," James said. "Unless you have a better idea."

Dennis thought for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. "James, you're seeker. Just for today. This is lunacy --- I can't remember a single time when a player has traded positions ---"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"And here's the lineup for today," Davey Gudgeon's voice sounded through the stadium. "There's been a slight change of positions --- on the Gryffindor team, we have newcomer Keeper this year Deborah Blunkins, Chasers Dennis Berster and Kenneth Graham. Yes, that's right. Only two of them. Beaters --- newcomer Geraldus Diggle and Orlick Greasings, and finally reserve Seeker James Potter!"

The stands went wild as James flew onto the pitch, waving happily at the crowd. He saw the Snitch in Darsing's hand as she let it and the Bludgers go.

"And the Snitch is released!" Davey said. "And there goes the Quaffle, the whistle is blown, and --- Potter already sees the Snitch?"

James had not let his eyes leave the tiny little ball. It was now zooming out of his reach next to Graham's trollish head. He dove for it, and the ball was off.

"I can't believe it! It's already been spotted. Slytherin Seeker Harolds is trying to keep up with James, but even on a Cleansweep two, he's doing miracles. Here he goes. This could actually be the game. And-"

James thrust his hand forward. A Bludger raced towards him, and he retreated his hand. The Snitch was still in front of him. It was still so close. He grabbed for it, and caught it.

"AND IT'S A NEW RECORD OR SOMETHING!" Davey shouted in excitement. "JAMES POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, TEN SECONDS INTO THE GAME! ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO ZILCH, GRYFFINDOR! Will he ever fail to amaze us?"

Graham looked very sour as James dropped to the ground, Snitch still in hand. He had done the impossible, and Dennis looked like he was about to cry.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The career advice meeting with Professor McGonagall seemed to drag on for Sirius. At least he had gotten out of Defense Against the Dark Arts for it, and he was now waiting for the last student to get out of the office and go back to class.

Five minutes later, a skinny boy exited into the hall, and Sirius heard his name being called from inside. He had been in this office before, many times. But never alone.

He sat in the chair opposite Professor McGonagall's, and waited for her to begin lecturing him.

"Sirius Black," she said, taking out his marks. "Very impressive, I assure you. Who would have ever thought. Top marks in everything. Especially Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, have you thought of what you may want to be after leaving Hogwarts?"

"An Auror," Sirius said, very sure of himself. Professor McGonagall looked quite surprised at his answer, and a small smile escaped onto her face.

"Well, Mr. Black," she said. "Very --- unexpected. I would recommend taking N.E.W.T. level Potions, Herbology, Tranfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. And I don't take just anyone into my N.E.W.T. classes, Mr. Black. You must have at least an Exceeds Expectations on your O.W.L. I know that the same goes for Defense Class, regardless of who may be teaching it next year."

"So there's a chance," he said. "There's a chance of me actually becoming an Auror?"

"Yes, Mr. Black," she continued, her smile growing. "It will, of course, take three extra years of education after Hogwarts. And you are aware of Headmaster Dumbledore sponsoring you in the tuition of that education if you do decide to pursue that particular career?"

"I've heard something about it," Sirius said. "Is it really that expensive?"

"It depends from student to student," Professor McGonagall said. "Now, do you have any questions on the profession, regulations, requirements?"

"No," he said, standing up. "Can I get back to class now?"

"Yes, and thank you, Mr. Black." She waved to the door, and he saw Helga Bones waiting outside, ready to be let in.

"""""""""""""""

O.W.L.s were approaching at an alarming rate. It seemed that they had just crept up on them out of nowhere. Only Sirius and James felt ready whatsoever.

Remus was constantly studying, spending more time focusing on books than he had before (if it were even possible). Peter returned to following him around, trying to get extra help with his work. Sirius and James, while everyone else was found in the library or in the common room, could be found out on the Quidditch pitch, throwing a Quaffle back and forth, or trying to sneak past Hagrid's hut to get into the forest (somewhere they had never gone). Hagrid always seemed to catch them, though, and shoo them back towards the castle.

Finally, the day came when the schedules were handed out, and they found themselves facing two weeks of pure agony. The judges arrived, and one by one they took their tests, starting with Charms and finally driving into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

This was the one that had the entire school very worried. There was so much material to cover, and they had no idea what exactly to expect. Professor wasn't being especially helpful in telling them anything.

Remus felt somewhat confident about the test. Peter had no idea what the class was even about, and James was loathing the entire subject so much that he was bragging about possibly skipping the test altogether.

"Quidditch players don't need Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said one night to Sirius.

Sirius, on the other hand, was remembering what Professor McGonagall had said to him during their discussion. He needed top marks. He was very eager to get it over and done with.He studied incessantly with Lupin, nearly forgetting there was anything else in the world to do. If he could pass all of them, if he could become an Auror --- then his life would change for good.

And soon, before they knew it, the four of them were sitting in the exam, trying their best to finish up in the bit of time they had left. James, of course, had completed the test early, and had gone to drawing a snitch on his extra pieces of parchment. He looked to Sirius when Flitwick gave the five minute signal, and Sirius, his face glowing, gave a thumbs up. He had done it.

"Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake!" he boasted to his friends as they walked from the exam minutes later, instinctively turning for the lake, "I'll be surprised if I don't get an Outstanding on it at least!"

"Me too," said James. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a struggling Golden Snitch.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Nicked it," James said casually. He had stolen it from the last Quidditch match, and they all knew it. Remus gave a bit of a groan as James started playing with it, letting it fly as much as a foot away and seizing it again. Peter found this very impressive as he watched in awe.

The sunlight was dazzling on the smooth surface of the lake, on the bank of which Lily and her friends sat with their shoes and socks off, cooling their feet in the water. James watched her for a moment, letting a bit of a smile creep up his cheeks. She was so beautiful, so perfect. She was laughing, splashing Elise and Mary with her kicks in the water. All three of them were obviously relieved the O.W.L.s were over, just as he and his friends were.

He wished he could sit next to her.

As the boys took a seat on the grass, Remus saw James staring, and followed his gaze. There were the girls again, Lily looking just as beautiful as ever. Of course James would be staring, and if any of those girls saw him doing so, they'd stare right back. Except for maybe Elise --- he had seen her looking at the back of Sirius's head for a good portion of the exam.

Remus felt very mellow as he reluctantly whipped out a book and began to read. He couldn't look at them anymore. None of them would look at him, especially Lily Evans. And if she did, what would he say? What would he do? James would kill him, first off. And if James didn't, then the wolf would be sure to kill _her_ ---

His nose went deeper into the book.

"I'm bored," Sirius groaned, "Wish it was full moon."

The other three had been having a bit of an argument on James's annoying habit with the Snitch, and James had finally stuffed it away. Remus gave Sirius a look of disbelief.

"_You_ might, "he said darkly, and then pointed to his book, "We've still got Transfiguration. If you're bored, you could test me --- Here."

James heard Lily laugh again from the water, and his eyes drifted once more from where he sat and to where she was. Her green eyes were so bright, dancing in the sun like the light caught on the surface of the lake. Her red hair was shining, her perfect body was splayed out, resting in the grass. He wished he could hold her.

But he soon realized he wasn't the only one wishing this.

There was Snivellus Snape, emerging from the bushes, stuffing his O.W.L. papers into his bag and trudging over to the girls to join them. This shouldn't have bothered James one bit, but today, he saw something he didn't normally catch. He saw that Lily had looked Snape's way. She had seen he was coming. And the look she'd worn --- it was meant for no one to see, but James had caught it. Oh, had he caught it.

It had been a look of worry. A look of fear.

Snape wouldn't leave her be.

"I don't need to look at that rubbish! I know it all," Sirius huffed, throwing Remus's book at him.

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," James said quietly, "Look who it is."

Sirius's head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit.

"Excellent," Sirius grinned, "_Snivellus_."

Like a well-timed dance, the two friends stood from their patch of grass and began to make their way to the Slytherin boy who'd had it coming. Remus, seeing the two of them off, said nothing. Nothing would stop it, he had tried. And it would only cause trouble to interfere.

"All right, Snivellus?" James shouted, and Severus dropped his bag and plunged his hands inside his robes. His wand was halfway into the air when James said, "_Expelliramus_!"

Snape's wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a thud in the grass behind him. Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

"_Impedimenta_!" he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand.

Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet and were edging nearer to watch. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained.

Severus lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands up, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water's edge. Was Lily watching? Did she see what he was doing?

Peter flew to his feet, trying to watch. Remus did nothing.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly!" James said.

"I was watching him! His nose was touching the parchment!" Sirius said viciously, "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word!"

Several people in their audience laughed, but neither James nor Sirius found this necessarily funny. They were going to finish this git off once and for all.

Severus was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

"You --- wait ---" Severus panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, "You --- wait ---"

"Wait for what?" Sirius said coolly, "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Severus let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but his wand being ten feet away nothing happened.

"Wash out your mouth," said James coldly, "_Scourgify_!"

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Severus's mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him ---

"Leave him ALONE!"

The scene stopped. James and Sirius froze in mid-spell, Severus fell to the ground, trying to breathe. Remus looked up from his book, terrified. Peter scampered beside him. And the students surrounding the battle were mesmerized.

Lily Evans rushed to Severus's side, as Severus continued to turn blue. Seeing him in such pain, she turned her flaring green eyes to James. James, who was very confused at all this, mussed his hair, trying to look presentable --- trying to figure out what the hell was going on --- he had _saved_ her! He had --- she hadn't wanted to talk to Snape --- Snape was _bothering_ her --- or had he --- had she --- been worried _for_ him ---

"All right, Evans?" James managed to say.

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated, "What's he done to you!"

"Well," he said, now enraged, "It's more the fact that he _exists_, if you know what I mean!"

Everyone laughed. Remus threw his head back into his book, his eyes glaring at James disapprovingly over the spine.

"God damn it, James," he grumbled to himself, seeing Lily grow even more infuriated.

"You think you're funny!" she said coldly, "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter! Leave him _alone_!"

Severus felt his heart leap from under the suds. He could see Lily standing above him, placing herself between him and Potter. She was such a magnificent girl ---

James saw this expression crawl onto Snivelly's sallow face. And it is then that he understood. He understood everything between the two that stood before him. Severus Snape and Lily Evans --- they loved each other --- and he didn't give a damn in what capacity or how or how much --- but Lily _loved _that sniveling little --- how _could _she?!

Years later, he would think it would be that bit of a push that made him say what he had wanted to say for a long time. And, for better or worse, he said it.

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," he said quickly, unable to think.

Lily's eyes bugged. Severus's were even larger.

Remus dropped his book in his lap.

"Go on ---" James kept up his courage as everyone went mute.

Severus's hands clenched. He swallowed the nasty soap bubbles down his throat, clenching his teeth, grating them together. His mind had exploded into a thousand pieces. No. No, no no! He wouldn't let it happen!

"Go out with me," James offered, seeing Lily's look of amazement, "And I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

It was taking everything inside of Severus to battle off Sirius's jinx and inch slowly toward his fallen wand. He'd kill James Potter! He'd murder him where he stood! Not Lily! He wouldn't let her ---

"I wouldn't go out with you," Lily said solidly, her loathing growing to an ultimate, "If it was a choice between you and the giant squid!"

James's world broke.

"Bad luck, Prongs," Sirius said briskly, turning back to Snape and catching him, "Oi!"

But too late. Severus had directed his wand straight at James.

_Sectumsempra_! Severus screamed in his head.

There was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James's face, spattering his robes with blood. James whirled about, infuriated. A second flash of light later, Severus was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants.

The crowd erupted in laughter.

Lily, whose furious expression twitched, screamed, "LET HIM DOWN!"

"Certainly!" James spat, and he jerked his wand upwards. Severus fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes, he got to his feet, wand up, but Sirius said, "_Locomortis_!" and he keeled over once again, rigid as a board.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily thrashed her own wand to James and Sirius, and they eyed it wearily.

"Ah, Evans," James said, half laughing, "Don't make me _hex_ you!"

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James, seeing he was never to win this war with Lily Evans, and seeing that his audience was growing quite impatient, gave a bit of a sigh before turning to Snivelly and muttering the countercurse.

"There you go," he said darkly as Severus pathetically struggled to his feet, "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus ---"

Severus saw James, standing above him, gloating with Lily near his side. He heard the laughter of the crowd surrounding them. He saw Mulciber there, standing alongside Avery and Nott and Lucius --- they had been laughing --- he knew what they were thinking --- Lily Evans, a Mudblood, had saved Severus Snape from the twit James Potter. Tears were preparing to flood, his head aching with being upside down. He glared at Lily.

"I don't need help from filthy little _Mudbloods_ like her!" he spat it out like venom, knowing it was what would hurt her the most. He felt a bit of pride in himself as the crowd grew silent once again, staring at him. The Slytherins grinned widely.

Lily was stunned. She could do nothing but stare at him, blinking. Her green eyes faded, turned against him. And in an instant, he knew he had made the gravest mistake of his life.

"Fine," Lily said mercilessly, "I won't bother you in the future."

Severus was struck.

"And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivelly_!"

"Apologize to Evans!" James demanded, brashly threatening Snape with his wand.

"I don't want _you _to make him apologize!" Lily shouted, rounding on James, "You're as bad as he is ---"

"What!" James barked, hurt beyond belief, "I'd _never_ call you a --- a you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just gotten off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch! Walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can! I'm surprise your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it!" and turning to both boys, she screamed, "YOU MAKE ME SICK!"

And she was off.

"Evans!" James shouted, "Hey, EVANS!"

But she didn't look back.

Severus stood there, behind James, unable to speak or move or run after her. He had lost her. He had lost her forever and he knew it.

"What is it with her!" James said, disheveled, trying to shrug it off --- trying to keep his cool in front of the crowd. He was trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him, but Sirius knew better.

"Reading between the lines," Sirius said, trying to take over for him, sounding loud for their audience, "I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate!"

James was furious. He brushed past Sirius and came face to face with Snivellus. He had now just realized his victim was still here.

"Right," he said, "Right ---"

Another flash of light. Severus was once again hanging upside down in the air. And this time, he didn't fight back.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants!" James laughed.

Remus slammed his book shut, giving a sigh, and grabbed his prefect badge from inside his bag as he got to his feet. It had gone on long enough.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sev's thin, grey hand rapped frantically on the portrait. The Fat Lady screamed out with every punch he threw.

"My word!"

"Lily Evans!" he screamed, not caring if Mrs. Norris or Filch or the Bloody Baron or Peeves --- if _anyone_ --- heard! "Lily! Please!"

No answer came.

"Evans, I swear I won't stop until you answer me!"

The portrait opened, and Sev felt his heart heave. It only heaved again when he saw it wasn't Lily. There stood Mary Macdonald, the Mudblood he had watched being thrown upside down only months ago. And neither looked too happy with this encounter.

"Severus Snape, leave," she said quietly, "You're going to wake the whole tower."

"Good!" Severus said, exasperated, "Good! Then Lily'll wake up!"

"She doesn't want to see you," she said, "Now please go."

"I'll sleep out here all night! I swear I will! I'll sit here screaming the whole damned night!"

Mary, her eyes rolling, slammed the portrait in his face, and he went back to slamming his fists into the Fat Lady's stomach and arms.

"Lily! I know you can hear me!" he said, "I'm sorry, Lily! I'm sorry! I didn't mean ---"

The portrait opened again. And this time, his heart heaved even more. This time, it _was_ Lily.

She was wearing a dressing gown, her arms folded, her eyes bloodshot.

"Have you been crying?" he asked her. His voice was cracked from screaming, his eyes nearly as red as hers.

She said nothing. He had never seen her hurt so much. Not when Petunia bullied her, not when Davey broke it off with her, not even when she failed her first Transfiguration exam!

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm not interested," she said in a voice so inaudible he almost didn't hear her.

"I'm sorry!"

"Save your breath!" Lily warned him, "I only came out here because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here!"

So she _did _still care!

"I was," Severus said, a bit proud of himself. How was _that_ for devotion? "I would have done!"

Lily glared at him.

"I --- I never meant to call you Mudblood," he tried to explain, "It just ---"

"Slipped out?!" there was no pity left from Lily Evans, "It's too late!"

"No –--" Severus moaned.

"I've made excuses for you for years! None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you! You and your precious little Death Eater friends ---" Snape said nothing in protest, "See! You see! You don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?!"

He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. He saw Klein's dark eyes thrown in front of him, threatening to tell if he ever said a word ---

And Lily, being the smart girl she was, saw this change in her old friend's expression.

"I can't pretend anymore," she finally said, "You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

"NO!" Severus begged her, "No --- listen to me --- I didn't mean ---"

"--- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus! Why should I be any different?!"

You _are_ different! Severus cried in his mind, You _are different_!

He struggled to say this out loud, but he couldn't get his mouth and tongue to work. Lily waited, but nothing came. And so, with a breaking heart, she turned from him and climbed back through the portrait hole.

And Severus collapsed outside the Fat Lady, unable to move. He knew, deep down in his gut, that Lily Evans's green eyes would never look at him again.

"""""""""""""

After that day, everything changed. All knew that their childhood had ended with that spring day. They knew that they were now edging closer and closer to the edge of school, and would soon dive off into a world that not one of them had experienced before. They had all chosen their paths, for good or worse, and there was no turning back.

As James fell asleep on the night of the Defense Against the Dark Arts test, Dumbledore's words came back to him loud and clear.

"I call you children because that is what you are. You have not fended for yourselves, you have not felt the terrible blows that life gives you. As we speak, there is hatred and prejudice residing in our world's heart. Now a man can make a difference in the world, even if it is a small one. We all have fates, including me. We can choose to make that fate one that will bring hope, or one that will bring destruction. Times are changing, and we must grow wiser for it. So now I must encourage you --- I must beg you --- when you leave these school walls and enter this world, to not be as idiotic and imbecilic as the generation before you."

His hands clenched into fists, and he felt his body tense. He knew that Sirius's excuse for being too young to help was slowly being extinguished. They would be of age in two years, and then what?

_Then I fight_, James thought to himself.

_And for my friends. _


	32. Chapter 31: Je Ne Mourrai Pas

**CHAPTER 31 **

**Je Ne Mourrai Pas **

They quietly crawled out of the knight's armor on the first floor. First, Wormtail, to make sure that the coast was clear. Then Padfoot, keeping a close eye on Moony as he jumped out. Then, with a bit of difficulty, came Prongs. They recognized the corridor at once, and trodded off to the right, looking for places in which to explore. They had already mapped the second floor corridors, and were heading for the dungeons.

Moony walked between Padfoot and Prongs, trying as hard as he could to keep the wolf at bay. It was especially hard tonight, for some reason. He couldn't concentrate on what they were doing. He couldn't think properly.

A musical sound came from their left, like a music box. Someone's door was opened down the corridor that led to Ancient Runes. Wormtail ran ahead and peered around the corner. Turning toward the other three, he nodded quickly. They followed him around the corner to find out what exactly the music was coming from.

The sight before them was a melancholy one. Professor June was standing over a packed suitcase. He seemed to be finally leaving after three years of teaching. His face was illuminated by the candlelight coming from a candle set on his table. He held a small music box in his hand. It was outlined in silver and blue, and engraved on top were the words _Je ne vais pas mort. _The phrase was under a shining full moon. The tune was sad, sorrowful, and June seemed to be silently crying to himself as the four boys watched him.

Moony, staring at the full moon, felt the wolf creep back up. He gave a low growl in the back of his throat, and Sirius nipped him on the ear. The wolf inside him grew stronger, and the growl grew louder. No one nipped him! No one ---

Prongs snorted quietly, and Moony shook his head. He couldn't let the wolf come back.

They continued on down the corridor, then down the stairs to the dungeon.

The shuffling of feet was heard to their right, and they quickly ducked into a dark corner. Professor Slughorn walked past them, wand in hand. He walked into the Potions dungeon, and reappeared with some papers. He then locked the door behind him and made his way out. Silence returned to the corridor, and the four of them continued down the passageway, remembering everything that they passed.

Finally, the passageway ended, and Padfoot ran to a torch and jumped at it. With one swipe of his paw, the torch fell off of its perch and into a puddle of water that had resided on the dungeon floor. Prongs gave him a look of surprise, but he soon saw why Padfoot had done such a thing.

The entire wall in front of them had slowly gotten larger, and now the four of them stood in front of a secret passageway.

Padfoot bounded in front of them as Wormtail cowered behind Prongs. Moony followed Padfoot into the darkness, trying to adjust their animal- like eyes to the changing light. Prongs's eyes glowed as he entered the blackness, and Wormtail squeaked disdainfully as he was forced to follow. Moony could still hear the music box echoing through the corridors.

The tunnel grew smaller as they continued through it. And in turn, it grew darker. Luckily, they could see quite well with their animal eyes.

Soon, Moony saw an opening at the end, and began to run quickly for the exit. He was feeling very cramped, but not as much as Prongs. Prongs had to crawl through half of the tunnel, on account of his height. It had been very humorous to see a stag on its knees, edging its way through the darkness.

The full moon was showing brightly as they drew closer to the exit. Padfoot ran ahead of Moony and took a breath. He was free again. Prongs staggered out after Padfoot, and Moony came charging after the still squeaking Wormtail.

The full moon hit Moony's face without warning, and he choked. The wolf! The wolf was rising! The wolf was taking hold ---

Moony howled and dropped, convulsing, on the ground. Prongs and Padfoot ran to him and examined him.

_Blood_. He could smell it.

Prongs jumped back as Moony snapped at him, growling. Padfoot nipped him again on the ear, and the wolf snarled and lunged at him. Except this time it wasn't out of fun. It was real.

Padfoot yelped, and fell to the ground. Prongs charged at Moony, but Moony was gone. The wolf attacked Prongs as well, aiming his fangs at his legs. Prongs stumbled back, and the wolf smiled evilly.

"Hello? Who's out there?"

It was Hagrid. They must have been somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. Prongs darted his stare at the wolf, who had turned his head toward the sound of the voice.

_No, Remus!_ Prongs thought, and he leaped to the snarling wolf.

But the wolf was too quick. He was off in an instant, running in the direction of Hagrid.

"S'at you, Firenze?"

Padfoot shook his head, gathering his senses, and then leaped to his feet and ran after the wolf. They couldn't let him be seen! They couldn't let him get to Hagrid! The moonlight glistened on the back of the wolf, and Padfoot lunged at him, digging his claws and teeth into his friend. The wolf howled and tried to bite back, but Padfoot had him this time. He pounded his paws on the top of the wolf's head, trying to get him to stop.

_Wake up, Moony! Wake up!  
_  
They rolled into the bushes, out of the moonlight. The wolf blinked, and the snarling ceased. He stared at Padfoot, who was bleeding from the cheek and chest, and then his eyes grew wide.

_Oh, God. What have I done?  
_  
Padfoot, seeing that he had control again, began to descend off of him, but then footsteps came from their right, and he pushed him back into the dirt and thorns.

"'Ello?" Hagrid's large boots were now visible.

There was a rustling, and then Hagrid looked up.

"Ah, jus' a deer. Haven' seen yer kind in this forest fer a while. Yeh got yerself a good fight, I see," Hagrid said, staring at it. Moony half expected Hagrid to trap Prongs and try to nurse him back to health. But Hagrid headed off, preoccupied, and it was again silent in the woods.

The two boys stood, still in animal form, and trotted back to a bleeding Prongs and Wormtail, who was still squeaking.

Moony looked in horror at Prongs, who was also terribly scratched. Had he done that? Prongs looked away from Moony, and headed back to the tunnel that they had discovered. The other three followed.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Now where was that tunnel?"

"Somewhere around there," James said, pointing to the dungeon dead end, and he stuck another flavored bean into his mouth. "You all packed, Padfoot?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, sucking on the end of his quill. "I think it was closer to here."

"How did you know about it anyway?" James asked.

Sirius's face stung. There was a large cut that covered his cheek, and more hidden under his cloak. James wasn't as badly injured, but he had a very nasty scratch on his neck and scratches all over his arms. His knees and elbows were also scraped from the tunnel.

"I was walking out of Slughorn's class, and Wormtail backed into this torch. Well, no one else noticed, but after the torch was extinguished in the puddle, the corridor seemed to be a little longer." Sirius looked over at Remus, who was still sleeping silently in his bed. He had been very shaken upon returning from the hospital wing earlier that morning, and had only said, "Some night, huh?" before falling asleep.

"You think he's all right?" Sirius asked.

"Of course he's all right," James said. "We're the ones that were bleeding to death. Oh, and by the way, I don't think it's good to nip him on the ear anymore."

"No, really?" Sirius huffed, and went back to the map. The door banged open, and Peter appeared.

"Professor June wants to see Moony," Peter said, looking at the back of Remus.

"Hey, Moony! Wake up!" Sirius threw a pillow at him, and he snapped up, jumping out of bed.

"Huh?" he snorted.

"June wants to see you," James said, taking another bean out of his box.

Professor June was waiting outside the Tower, looking very shabby indeed. The stick was in his hands, and announced Remus's arrival as he stepped out of the portrait hole.

"Remus Lupin, five feet away," The stick's notch moved, and June smiled warmly.

"Ah, Remus," June said. "I wanted to speak with you before I left. Are you packed?"

"Yes," said Remus.

"You have a few minutes to spare?"

"Yes."

"What time does the train leave?"

"Five o' clock."

"Well, that's later than I thought. Could you follow me, please?" June held his stick in front of him, and the stick guided him and Remus down the staircase and through the school to the Ancient Runes office. There lay June's suitcase, all packed and ready to go. But the music box was still sitting out on his desk. June's stick told him where to place his hand, and June picked it up and felt it over.

"Do you know what this is, Remus?" he said quietly.

"Erm --- it's a music box, Professor," Remus said, not sure of what he meant.

"It was my son's," June clarified, making his way to the chair behind the desk. Remus stood in front of the desk, staring at him and the music box. "My wife and I bought it for him as a gift after he ---" he stopped, and swallowed, his Adam's apple moving up and down. "I --- I thought that we had lost him that night. He was only three months old. The music --- it soothed him during his nights. Certain nights when it became too much ---" he trailed off again, and felt the inscription on the top. He then smiled to himself sadly and asked, "Remus, can you read French?"

"A little."

"Read the inscription there." June handed him the music box, and Remus peered at the letters.

"_Je ne mourrai pas_," he read.

"I will not die," June recited. "It gave him hope. It gave me hope. After he died, everything changed. The --- the world is a cruel place, Remus. I beg you to be careful." June's smile faded, and he gripped his stick. "You remind me so much of him. You even look like him --- from what I can remember ---"

"How did it happen, Professor?" Remus asked. He knew he shouldn't have. He knew it was a personal question, but it had been eating inside him for the whole year.

"You're too young to worry yourself with that answer. Just know that there are dangers out there for boys like yourself. There are people who make it their lives to hurt you, to --- to kill you," June said quickly, and then added even quicker, "I want you to have this. Maybe it will bring you more luck than it did us."

Remus blinked, and then stared down at the little music box. He opened the top, and a quiet tune rolled out.

"The song is called 'La Lune Romaine,'" June said quietly, "It tells a story of soldiers, surrounded by battle, and yet they take comfort in the stars and Roman moon above them. And they sleep in peace. If it be in death, or in dreams."

"It's a beautiful song," Remus said weakly, "but I can't take this. It was your son's."

"And he would have wanted you to have it," June said. "Now, I believe that you need to get ready to go. Have a wonderful summer, and as I've said before, it's been a pleasure teaching you."

They shook hands, and Remus excused himself from the room. The music box was still chiming its tune in time with his footsteps.

He never saw Professor June again. A week later, back at home in the comfort of his own kitchen, he read the obituaries for what was now becoming known as the Great War. He dropped his spoon in his cereal bowl as he spotted a name.

_Messr. Michael S. June. 54. Killed last night by two unknown Death Eaters in his home. Follows his wife and son, both deceased. No survivors. _


	33. Chapter 32: Enough

**CHAPTER 32**

**Enough**

"What's that?" Sirius peered over at Remus, who was holding something in his hands. They were back on the train, heading home once again. James was still eating his beans, and Peter was stroking Wormtail, who had grown very old and seemed to be holding onto his last breath of life.

"It's that music box we saw last night," Remus said, "June gave it to me. Wanted to give me hope or something. I don't know."

"Interesting," James said, taking it from him and looking it over, "What's it say? It's in French."

"Let me see," Sirius said, examining it over James's shoulder, "I will not die. Nice going away present."

"Give it back," Remus snatched it back, and then eyed Sirius, "I didn't know you could speak French."

"Everyone in the family knows it," Sirius growled mockingly, "For we are pure and better than anyone else in this world. Stupid Toujours Pur."

"Always pure?" Remus said uneasily, "What a lovely family you have."

"Don't I," Sirius said darkly, and then turned to Peter, "How old is that thing anyway?"

"Wormtail?" Peter said, "He's . he's going on five years old . very old for a rat --"

"I bet he doesn't make it to sixth year," Sirius laughed, and then saw that no one else was laughing. The end of fifth year had been enough to kill them all, and now all they wanted to do was get on with their lives and go to summer. Remus had almost killed them.

And Peter -- well, Peter was Peter.

"Look, maybe we should talk about what happened last night," Remus said bravely, looking up at all of them.

"I really don't want to," Peter said quickly.

"We need to, though," Sirius agreed, and then looked to Remus, "What do you want to talk about exactly, Moony?"

"How close did I get," Remus said quietly.

"What do you mean?" James asked through a handful of beans.

"No one will tell me what I did," he said, "Did I get anyone? Did -- did it --"

"No," Sirius said seriously, and then became very stiff, "We walked out of the tunnel, and the wolf came back. You attacked me and Prongs, but we stopped you before you got Hagrid ."

"Hagrid?" Remus shuddered, "Did he see me?"

"No," James said, "He saw me though. Thought I was cute or something."

"Right. I think I remember that," Remus took a deep breath, "I could have killed you," he said solemnly, and then looked right at James and Sirius, "It isn't safe anymore. If I can get out of hand ."

"Moony, me and Padfoot can take you down," James said, "We're both big enough that it isn't a problem."

Remus nodded, agreeing, and then, hesitantly, said, "And you do realize that -- that it isn't me that's -- that I'm not --"

"Don't talk rubbish, Moony," Sirius snorted, "Of course we do."

"Don't start on the whole 'I'm a monster' trip again, please," James sighed.

Remus let out a small laugh, and then looked out the window at the speeding trees. He had thought that he had conquered it. But here were two of his best friends, their faces scratched and bags under their eyes, because of him. He had clawed them. And he could easily kill them.

How could he live with himself if he killed them?

--

Mr. and Mrs. Black were waiting for Sirius as he stepped off of the train. Again, he would be going home. His family had decided that he would never see the inside of the Potter's house again.

There was a difference in the tone at Platform 9 ¾. Many of the parents were dressed in black, and it seemed to be silent as the children greeted them. The four friends realized how different Hogwarts was from the rest of the world. It had seemed like Voldemort had just been a fairy tale, an urban legend. But no. It was real. It was more real than anything else.

"Sirius. Regulus. Come," Mr. Black said forcefully, and then led his two sons out of the station and home.

In their living room, Regulus was invited to sit down and tell them how lovely the year went. Sirius, on the other hand, was shooed away upstairs, and locked in his bedroom. He didn't think there would be any chance of his release any time soon.

His mother screeched day and night at his father about their son. His father tried to keep him away from dinner guests. Regulus snickered behind his back. He was now not only a disgrace, but an outcast. He could hardly take any more of it, but it was better than them sitting down and giving him a talking to again.

--

It was late July when Mrs. Black finally called Sirius out of his room and down to the kitchen to speak with the family. They had once again assembled like the little bugs that they were.

Uncle Alphard (who was looking quite peaky), Aunt Elladora, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Regulus, and his parents all were sitting across from him, sneering and glaring. Except for Uncle Alphard, who was twiddling his thumbs and trying not to look guilty.

"Your cousin been keeping a close eye on you, Sirius," Mr. Black began, "And they say that you have not listened to a word that we said last Christmas."

"You ungrateful wretch," Mrs. Black interjected, "How dare you ignore us, as if we were the common person! We put this house over your head, pay for your schooling -- We thought that perhaps you'd see your error on your own. We thought that possibly those blood traitors could show you just how despicable they are. But I see that we were wrong! But I promise you that you will never see that Potter boy again! I promise you --"

"Oh, shut up, Mother," Sirius barked.

Mrs. Black looked taken aback. She blinked her beady little eyes, and then turned to Mr. Black.

"Do you see what I meant? No respect whatsoever."

"He's not right in the head, Auntie," Narcissa said, "It's not his fault if he's been brainwashed by those Mudbloods."

"Don't you ever call them Mudbloods, you pig," Sirius shouted, standing up to face his cousin.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was mistaken. James is pure, isn't he? Then what makes him such a bullying git? You like hanging around with him, don't you? You like getting the lime light on you. You like being his lapdog." Narcissa smiled sourly.

And Sirius lunged at her over the table.

Aunt Elladora screamed, and Regulus grabbed his older brother and threw him back. Sirius glared at Regulus, and then started for him. Mr. Black grabbed him by the arms and restrained him from attacking.

"Get off!" Sirius shouted.

"We're going to send you to another school," Mr. Black announced, still struggling with him, "Durmstrang. Where you will learn the true ways of our family. And where none of that Mudblood rifraff will --"

Sirius hit him in the jaw with the back of his head, and Mr. Black let go. Sirius took the opportunity to rush up the stairs, and to his bedroom. He could hear the whole lot of them charging up the stairs after him. But he didn't care. He knew what he was going to do.

And it would not be going to Durmstrang.

"Sirius!" Mrs. Black screamed as Sirius stuffed his trunk full of his belongings, and then pointed his wand at the lot of them as he slammed the lid down.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Black demanded.

"Something that I should have done a long time ago," Sirius said, "I'm not doing it anymore! I hate you! I hate you all!"

"Sirius!"

"Oh, shut it, Mother," Sirius barked, "And get out of the way."

"Sirius."

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" he shouted, and then ran closer to them, wand still pointed directly between Mr. Black's eyes.

He shoved through them, not waiting for them to respond, and flew down the staircase, and out of the door, slamming it behind him. He could hear the screeching of his mother two blocks away as he ran through the streets, still wearing his wizard robes and dragging his large trunk behind him. But he didn't care how long he'd have to walk. He was going to be free from that place. He was going to be different than Regulus and Narcissa and Bellatrix. He was going to become a good wizard -- an Auror -- and --

The Muggles on the street glanced at him as he made his way through London. How many more blocks did he have to go? He couldn't tell one street from the other --

And he was getting hungry. And it was getting dark.

He decided to stop at a hot dog stand outside of a park, but realized a little too late that the Muggle behind the vendor didn't recognize his Sickles that he was trying to hand him, and shooed him away, thinking that Sirius was trying to play a joke on him.

Stomach grumbling, he made his way through the park. He had never been here. It was a Muggle place . He felt very out of place with his large trunk and robes, but -- where was James's house again?

He looked over at one of the swingsets, where a boy was being pushed by his mother. His expression darkened, and he gripped the handle on his trunk.

"And where are you going today dressed like that?"

Sirius swiveled around to come face to face with a Muggle bobby. He was carrying a nightstick, and looking menacingly at him.

"To my mate's house," he said truthfully, not flinching at all.

"Where are your parents?"  
Sirius pointed at the lady with the boy, and said, "There. My little brother and my mum."

The bobby gave him one more look, and then continued on through the park.

--

A knock sounded from the door. It was two o' clock in the morning at least, James guessed as he stirred in his bed. Sprite would surely answer the caller.

Sure enough, Sprite's footsteps were heard from the kitchen, and then the door opened.

"Ah! Master Sirius! Master Sirius looks horrible, Master Sirius!" Sprite said.

The door shut, and James's eyes popped open. Sirius wasn't supposed to be here. He jumped out of bed and made his way down the staircase, peering through the darkness to the large shadow in the entranceway.

"Padfoot?" James whispered.

"Ah, Master James, Master Sirius is here," Sprite said, and then took his trunk, "Sprite will take Master Sirius's trunk, if Master Sirius pleases."

"Prongs, I --" Sirius was at loss for words. Sprite grabbed the trunk, and with great difficulty, lagged it up the stairs, and past James.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Sirius shook his head. He looked horrible indeed. He was drenched in rain from outside, and his face was dirty and covered with sweat. His eyes were hollow.  
"I ran away from home," he said after a few silent moments.

"What?"

"I -- I couldn't take it anymore -- I didn't know what to do. They were going to send me to Durmstrang," Sirius said, "This is the only other place I have. You said that if I ever needed a home --"

"Come on up," James interrupted him, "We'll talk to my parents in the morning. Your room is still available."

"Thank you," he said quietly as he followed his friend up the stairs and down the hall.

--

Mr. and Mrs. Potter were equally as surprised to see Sirius there the next morning. However, after hearing all that had happened, agreed to house him until he could make other arrangements.

"Don't you want to go back home, Sirius?" Mr. Potter tried to pursuade him to think reasonably, but he said sternly, "No. I'll never go back there again."

And so he stayed with the Potters. And life was the better for it. In July, both James's and Sirius's O.W.L.'s came to the house, and they quickly scanned their marks. All Outstandings. They had done it without any studying whatsoever. Now their choices for classes were endless. They quickly wrote Remus and Peter to see what their grades had been. Two letters came back. One from Remus, saying that he had received all Outstandings except for one Excellent in Charms, and Peter responded that he'd rather not talk about it.

Meanwhile, Sirius had put up some more Chudley Cannon posters and a calendar in his room. He now had his own bedsheets, and other small additions to the bed that made it feel more like home. He had thought that the police would show up on the Potter's doorstep, and force him to go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. But nothing ever was spoken of the Blacks. They seemed to be either embarrased or overjoyed that he had finally gone, because not one owl, Howler, postcard, or anything was ever received from them.

Voldemort's rise to power was continuing. Diagon Alley was now flanked with Aurors. Security checkpoints had been fashioned at the Leaky Cauldron. It was the same story at any other wizarding area. Stories had been coming out in the paper about a legendary group of Aurors led by Albus Dumbledore that was the driving force behind the revolt against Voldemort. No names were mentioned, and no name of the group was given. But James felt as if it must have been the Order that everyone kept talking about.

Mr. Potter was gone from time to time, and he told his family that they were business trips. He worked for the Ministry, and he swore that they were keeping him busy. He wasn't an Auror, oh no -- but every time that he returned home, he was bruised and scarred. And not just on the outside, but inside as well.

But it didn't seem as if the growing Order was helping anything. The Dark Lord was rising, and everyone had forgotten that once his name had been Tom Riddle. Voldemort's name was feared, and his shadow cast a dark spell upon the world, Muggle and wizard alike.  
Muggle killings were done for sport. Every day half of the obituaries would be labeled: "Non-magic" and the other half "Magic."

There was an article on the front page one day. There had been a few Death Eaters caught by an Auror, and the Auror's face was plastered under the headline. The caption read: Moody suceeds in capturing. "Moody" looked like something out of a nightmare. One eye was freakishly huge, and it swiveled around in his head. Sirius set the paper down, feeling sort of unnerved. These were to be his coworkers when he got older. Would he end up looking like that?

--

Sixth year came so quickly, and soon they found themselves being searched by Aurors on the platform of King's Cross. They opened their trunks and let the wizards search them through for any weapons or illegal items.

"Have you been to Knockturn Alley in the past thirty days?" one chisled face wizard asked the boys.

"No," they answered.

"Have you had any connections with any person or persons that have been to Knockturn Alley in the past thirty days?"

"Not that I know of," Sirius said, and James shook his head.

"Have you purchased anything from an illegal organization or unknown source and are attempting to proceed to your destination with that purchase?"

"No."

"Do you have any Muggle weapons?"

"No."

"You may proceed," the wizard said as he locked James's trunk again, and ushered them forward. The two boys saw Remus waving from a window of a train compartment, and made their way to the entrance ramp.

"Hold it right there," a very official looking wizard stopped them at the entranceway, and pointed to their bags, "Open them up. We have a few questions before you board the train."  
Sirius sighed, and him and James dropped their luggage again. The wizard bent down, waving his wand over the luggage, "Have you been to Knockturn Alley in the past thirty days?"

"No."

"Have you had any connections with any person or persons that have been to Knockturn Alley in the past thirty days?"

"No."

"Have you purchased anything from an illegal organization or unknown source and are attempting to proceed to your destination with that purchase?"

"No."

"Do you have any Muggle weapons?"

"No."

"You may proceed," he waved them on, and they entered the train.

"Like we'd visit Knockturn Alley or purchase illegal things in the two minutes between that checkpoint and this one," Sirius muttered.

Remus stuck his head outside one of the doors, and waved for them to join him. Peter was peering from behind him, and smiled. But it seemed to be a forced smile. Wormtail was no where to be seen.

"Looks like his rat finally died," Sirius said.

Him and James made their way to them, and sat in their usual seats for their sixth time.

"Have you purchased anything from an illegal organization or unknown source and attempting to proceed into Hogsmeade village with that purchase?"

"No," Sirius said, gritting his teeth, and clenching his fists.

"Do you have any Muggle weapons?"

"No. Still no weapons."

"You may proceed."

The four of them made their way into the Hogsmeade platform. It was a clear night, and they could see Hagrid shouting at the first years to follow him. Sirius and James took a seat in a carriage, and Remus and Peter in the one behind them.

--

The common room was crowded that night, filled with new students trying to orientate themselves with the tower, and friends reuniting. James saw Lily from his seat next to the fireplace, and she glared at him. His stomach lurched.

"We almost have the school mapped out," Sirius said, and James turned back toward him,

"Now -- just for the rest of the secret passageways. How many have we found?"

"Four leading out of the school," James reported, "And that's including the Whomping Willow."

"When's the next full moon, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"This next week sometime," Remus said, "I think it's Thursday."

"And let's start looking out for Snivellus," James said, "Because I think he's up to something."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"I mean that he's been following me around all night. He thinks we're up to something. And after last year, I think that he'd give limbs to see us expelled. He's on to us," James shifted in his seat, and then looked at Remus. Remus was looking sort of pale, and then looked back at him.

"He can't find out," Remus said.

"I know," James said, "I know."

--

All of the classes were becoming harder and harder. James, Sirius, and Remus had begun N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology. James and Sirius continued with N.E.W.T. level Charms, and Remus took up Muggle Studies. Peter, on the other hand, decided that he was better off with the regular classes.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was named Professor Nanes. She was very quiet, and very mysterious. She spoke in a low voice, one that all of the boys in the class melted at when they heard it. James swore she must have been part veela.

Severus Snape was in all of Sirius and James's classes, and every time that they talked to each other, he was behind them, leaning in to hear what they said. When James threatened to hex him, he just smiled like he knew their secret, and wouldn't budge from their spot. And then Sirius would continue by hexxing him and walking off with James.

Their first full moon was spent parading around Hogwarts, trying to find a new passageway out. None was found, and they left for Hogsmeade, where they decided that they would try and steal some things out of Zonko's.

But their trip was put under a damper. For they were all thinking about Snape, and they knew that nothing good ever lived forever.


	34. Chapter 33: The Monster Inside

CHAPTER 33

The Monster Inside

It was Halloween when the October full moon was due. The group was looking forward to missing the feast again to go around the grounds and explore some more. But Remus pointed out that they had to be more careful than ever, because the students would be out of bed a lot later. So they had agreed that the three of them would wait a little later until everyone was in bed before joining him in the Shrieking Shack.

They were discussing this in the library (somewhere where Sirius and James had tried to avoid since third year), when Sirius realized that Snivellus was a table away, trying to catch the words that they were saying.

"How about you go back to reading, Snivelly, before I hex you again," James hissed.

Snape didn't answer.

Sirius turned to look at him, and he saw Snivellus staring right back at him, smiling. Sirius glared. His hands balled into fists, and James saw his eyes grow hollow. James kicked him from under the table, and they continued with their discussion.

"So you'll go to the feast with the rest of them," Remus said, pretending to be interested in a book, "Sorry I can't come. My mum ."

"We know," James said, "Now listen, we'll hopefully talk to you after the feast. Send an owl, and see how your mum is? It'll give you time to get home and make yourself comfortable. See her and all."

"Sounds good," Remus said, "But wait a while, because I don't want you ."

"Wait, I thought your mum was . OW!" Peter massaged his arm as Sirius elbowed him.

"Shut it, you git," Sirius growled, and then looked back at Snape, who was still smiling.

The feast was as magnificient as it always was. Sirius, James, and Peter all sat together, but Sirius seemed to be preoccupied. He hadn't been the same since the library that afternoon, and he hadn't spoken the entire night.

"You feeling all right, Padfoot?" James asked.

Sirius nodded, and took another drink of pumpkin juice.

"So . what time are we leaving tonight?" Peter asked.

"Around two in the morning. It will be harder to keep Moony under control," James said, "Padfoot, you're going to go first, and then me. Then Wormtail, you'll follow us."

Peter nodded, and Sirius followed his example, except not as enthusiastically. James still saw that his eyes were still hollow. He didn't look like Sirius. He looked like a stranger. He didn't know this boy sitting next to him, and it was sort of unnerving.

"Are you sure you're all right?" James asked again.

Sirius nodded.

After the feast, they left the Great Hall, and walked into the Entrance Hall after the prefects. Evans was wearing her shiny badge, and talking to one of the prefect boys. They were all wondering why Remus wasn't there to help.

Sirius shuffled behind James and Peter, his eyes dead set ahead of him. He saw the Slytherins and Gryffindors walk down the same corridor. Past the windows, the silhouettes of two figures were seen. No one noticed them, but one taller and skinnier sixth year Slytherin had stopped to stare out the window before him. Sirius's eyes grew darker, and he let James and Peter walk ahead of him. He felt himself being pushed forward by the crowd, until he grew closer to the window.

It was Remus and Madam Pomfrey outside. They were late. Something had happened. Pomfrey hadn't gotten there in time, and now she was half dragging half leading Remus to the Whomping Willow.

But that wasn't what the matter was. The sixth year was staring at them in awe. The sixth year had a hooked nose. Greased hair.

It was Snivellus.

"You know," Sirius said, coming up from behind him, his eyes still hollow, "You can follow them."

"Another one of your tricks, 'Padfoot?'" Snivellus snarled.

"Not at all," Sirius said smoothly, and then pointed at the figures, "They're going to go under that tree. And you can follow them."

"How."

"Prod the knot on the tree trunk, and there's a tunnel. Go through the tunnel, and there's an opening at the end," Sirius smiled, his brow low and shadows covering his face. Snivellus was looking with interest as the two figures disappeared into the ground, "See?"

Snivellus returned Sirius's smile, and turned on his heels toward the open Entrance doors.

James and Peter had been waiting for Sirius to join them in the dormitory room. They had lost him in the crowd walking back to the Tower. He finally entered a few minutes after the two of them had arrived. He was laughing.

It scared James. He had heard Sirius laugh before, but something was different. It was a cold-hearted laugh. It was a laugh of a killer. A laugh of an evil secret. And Sirius's eyes were still hollow.

"What?" James asked sternly, staring at him.

Sirius flopped on his bed, and then gave out a particularly loud laugh, "He's such a stupid git! He's such an ignorant . arrogant ."

"Who?" Peter asked.

"What did you do, Sirius," James demanded, fear welling up in his heart.

"Snivelly saw Remus and Pomfrey go into the tunnel," Sirius said, holding his side, "And I just informed him how to get past the tree ."

"You - did - what?!" James cried, and then ran to the window. Sure enough, there was a silhouette creeping towards the tree. He snapped back at Sirius, and shouted, "Do you realize what's going to happen when he gets down there?"

Sirius stopped laughing, and gave James a look, "He deserves it, Prongs. After what he's done ."

James didn't say anything, but shot out of the room, and down the stairs. He couldn't let Snape get to the end of the tunnel. God, what would happen if he didn't get there in time.

He slammed the Fat Lady open, and jumped down the staircase to the Entrance Hall. He wouldn't get there in time.

He threw open the oak doors to the outside, and the moon hit him. He could almost hear the screams. He could see the scene . He could .

Snape wasn't anywhere to be seen. The Willow was frozen, and he could see a stick sitting at its trunk. Sirius's laughter was still echoing in his head.

He grabbed the stick, and prodded the knot. The stirring branches grew stiff, and he ducked into the hole. Through the tunnel, through the darkness. He could hear Snape's footsteps. He could hear Remus's howls.

They were all pounding in his ears as he flew through the darkness. His arm hit a large root, and he screamed in pain.

"SEVERUS!" he screamed. His throat hurt, "SEVERUS! DON'T GO IN THERE! SNAPE! STOP!"

He bumped into something, and he and the thing fell with an "oof!" It was a body. It was Snape.

"Potter! What are you doing?" he spat.

"Snape, please," James pleaded with him, grabbing his arm, "We have to go back! You can't be down here!"

"Oh, so all of a sudden I'm not Snivellus, am I?" Snape laughed, and broke free of James, "Get off."

"Severus, come with me. Sirius ."

"Finally came to reason, Potter," Snape said, "And now you and your little friends will be expelled. I don't know what Lupin's doing down here, but I'm going to find out."

And with that, Snape ran. And James ran after him.

And finally, the light came again. The trapdoor was open. The light illuminated the end of the tunnel, where Snape stood, frozen.

"SNAPE!" James shouted, and ran forward. His sides hurt. He could hardly breath. His heart was racing. Snape wasn't moving. He wasn't .

"AAAAAOOOOOO!"

As James reached Snape, he looked up at the entrance to the sight above. The Shrieking Shack's living room ceiling was seen. Footsteps were being heard above them. And then, the silhouette of a wolf. Snape was wide eyed, staring at the sight.

"Snape, we have to go back . Severus ." James stopped, staring at the approaching wolf. Blood was dripping from its fangs. Its eyes were dialated, its claws sharp. It's ears perked. This was Remus. This was Remus Lupin. His friend.

"Remus ." he whispered quietly.

Snape blinked, and then looked back at James. But he didn't say anything.

The wolf growled again, and James grabbed Snape's white arm, and bounded back into the darkness. Snape was quiet all the way out of the tunnel. James didn't stop for a breath. He didn't stop to look where he was going. He just ran.

And finally, the two boys emerged outside, and James leaped out of the way of the swinging branches. Snape stood, frozen, staring at James. His face was white, and James knew that he had understood what he had seen.

"You saved my life," Snape said. He didn't sound too happy about it, though.

"Please, Severus, you can't tell anyone ."

"Oh, by tomorrow, everyone will know about that thing," Snape said, his smile returning, "Dumbledore, the students, all of them."

"Dumbledore already knows," James said, "But you can't tell ."

"Ah, but he doesn't know that you know, does he?" Snape said, coming to a realization, "Oh, but he will. I swear to God that he will."

"I won't let you," James said, pointing his wand at him, "You can't!"

"Oh, I will. You can count on that," Snape said, "You think that your little joke was very humorous, don't you?"

"What?" he thought that it had been his idea?, "I . I didn't ."

"Snape and Potter!"

They turned toward the voice. It was Professor McGonagall, along with Professor Hall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Headmaster Dumbledore. Behind them stood Sirius and Peter, staring at James and Snape.

"Come with us. Now," Professor McGonagall ordered, and the nine of them made their way inside the school.

"How long have you three known?" Dumbledore interrogated the boys in front of them. Sirius was still smiling evilly. Peter looked like he was going to hurl. James was so shaky, that he felt like he was going to fall off of his chair.

"Since second year," James said truthfully. He would not tell them about the Animagus transformations. He would never .

"How did you find out?"

"We figured it out," James said. Sirius was now looking at him. His smile had faded. He was looking worried. He thought that he was going to crack and tell them everything. But he wouldn't .

"How."

"Different reasons," Sirius spoke up.

"And what did you see, Mr. Snape?" Dumbledore asked the fourth boy. Snape was glaring at Sirius.

"It was a monster. Something that should be put down immediately," he was still looking at Sirius.

In an instant, Sirius was to his feet, and glaring back at Snape, "You never talk about Remus like that, you ."

And a string of swearwords came out of his mouth that made Professor McGonagall gasp. Then he lunged at Snape, and Professor Sprout and Professor Hall rushed forward to take a hold of him. Dumbledore was studying him, possibly in curiosity.

"Mr. Black, I am going to ask you to try to restrain yourself and sit back down," Dumbledore said, "We are talking about this in a civilized manner. And as for you, Mr. Snape," he said, turning on Snivellus, "I am only going to warn you once to refrain yourself from using such language towards a fellow student."

"He's not a student," Snape snarled at the Headmaster, "He's a bloody werewolf! Am I the only one that sees that? That . thing . is a werewolf! And should be far away from any other . locked away or killed or ."

"Mr. Snape, watch your tongue," Professor McGonagall interrupted him, "He is a boy, as yourself, by the name of Remus Lupin. What you saw tonight was not ."

"I KNOW WHAT I SAW!" Snape shouted, his face turning red, "I KNOW WHAT I SAW! I SAW A MONSTER!"

Sirius's eyes narrowed.

"What you saw was a very sick little boy," Professor McGonagall shouted back.

James had never seen her like this. She was furious. Shouting at a student? Not reprimanding or scolding, but . shouting?

"Mr. Snape, I must ask you to vow your secrecy about what you witnessed tonight," Dumbledore said very seriously, "You must never tell a soul about Mr. Lupin. It is for the safety of him, along for the safety of every student in this school."

Snape glared at the headmaster, "You . they . HE TRIED TO KILL ME!" he jabbed a finger at Sirius.

Sirius looked ready to kill him now, that was for sure. Dumbledore looked at him, and then his brow furrowed.

"People make mistakes, Severus," he said, looking back at Snape, "Surely you could understand that."

Snape suddenly grew stiff, and then became silent.

"As for you, Mr. Black," Dumbledore continued, "You are on probation. We will be watching you very closely. One toe out of line, and I will have to expell you."

Sirius didn't answer.

"And for Mr. Potter," Dumbledore looked at James, "I do not know how much you had to do with this little episode. But you have proved yourself virtuous by putting your life in danger for a fellow student. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"What?" Snape screeched, standing up, "He - tried - to - kill -me!"

"Ten points from Slytherin, Severus," Dumbledore said, "For pure stupidity. You should have known better not to take Mr. Black's word for anything."

"HE TRIED TO KILL ME!" Snape screamed.

"And he also saved your skin," Professor McGonagall said, "You owe him your life."

Snape looked very green, and he glared at James. Neither one of the boys were too happy about that statement.

"Now, I want you all to leave my office," Dumbledore said, "Including you, Minerva," he said as Professor McGonagall shooed them out of the room, "I am tired. I wish not to speak with anyone tonight. I hope you have a lovely night."

Professor McGonagall's face grew very sour, and she took the four boys down the staircase and to the outside corridor.

"I trust you can find your way back to your dormitories by yourself," she said, and then turned on her heels to another corridor.

"Well, I bet you think you're a hero, now, don't you," Snape snarled at James as soon as she was out of earshot and Peter made his way back to the Tower, whimpering to himself, "You're still a blood traitor.'"

James glared at him, but he was too tired to argue, and walked away from him.

"What? You aren't as tough as you were, are you?" Snape goated him on, trying to get him to start another fight. But James didn't turn around. Sirius, on the other hand, turned toward him, and headed for him, hands in fists.

James grabbed him, and dragged him away, "Don't do it, Padfoot," he said, and tugged him in the other direction. His eyes were hollow again.

"Yes, 'Padfoot,'" Snape's lip curled, "Listen to 'Prongs.'"

"Severus, please," James said, "Just - just go."

"Oh, so now you don't want to fight," Snape started on him, "Now that I know what that freak friend of yours is."

Sirius lurched forward, but James tugged back, "Sirius!"

"What are you going to do, 'Padfoot?' Hex me? Touch me again, and I'll tell everyone what he is. You want to protect him, don't you?" Snape knew that he had them, but Sirius wasn't giving in.

"Let go of me!" he growled from behind James's restraining arms, "You're going to pay for this, Snivellus!"

Snivellus smiled slyly, "It's funny how the tables turn, isn't it?"

"Severus, Remus is very sick," James said calmly, "And he has no control over what he does. If you tell everyone what he is ."

"I'll kill you," Sirius said, his voice stone cold. Snape blinked, and then looked at him. A tinge of fear was in his eyes, but soon he covered it with amusement, and then he sauntered forward, two inches away from Sirius's darkened face.

"I would like to see you try," he hissed in his ear, and Sirius lunged at him again. But James still held him back, and threw him to the wall.

"Get off of me!" he howled, and then ran at Snape. He punched him in his face, and Snape doubled back onto the ground, "And now I'm warning you once, Snivellus. You tell anyone . ANYONE . about Lupin, and I'll make sure that you don't make it to graduation! You said it yourself, I'm the darkest one in the group. And I will kill you."

Snape, holding his mouth, now looked more scared than he had ever before in his life. He looked to Sirius, and saw his haunted expression. Then he said, "You're mad. You're bloody mad."

"Let's just see how mad I can get," Sirius said, and then turned and walked back towards James and down the hallway, leaving Snape in a heap outside of Dumbledore's office.

"I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING, JAMES POTTER!" Snape shouted at their backs.

"Are you out of your mind?" James shouted as they climbed the stairs to the portrait hole, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I'm ruddy sick and tired of that git bullying us around, and following us," Sirius said, "Trying to get us expelled ."

"And he almost did!" James cried, "Because of you! What's your problem? I've . I've never seen you like this! What in the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"You don't understand, Prongs," he said quietly.

"No, I don't. Please explain," James stared at him. He still looked deadly.

"Just leave me alone. You played the hero once again," he said, and said the password and stepped into the common room, "And I'm the felon. Just as it's always been. So you just sit there and take it from him. Let him be the villain, and you're the great savior of all."

"Sirius, what are you talking about?" James stared at him as he started up the stairs, "You're not making sense."

Sirius turned toward him, his face illuminated by the full moon, "You let him sit there and talk about Remus like that! You let him just go on, and you don't say anything! Just as long as you keep out of trouble. Well, guess what? I'm on probation! I'm on probation because I stand up for my friends! I stand up for them, because they're the only family I've got left! But you live in that Park Avenue house with your mummy and daddy and happy little house elf, and you have everything that you want!"

"You're not on probation because you were helping Remus!" James shouted back, "You're on probation because you tried to kill Snape! You tried to have Remus kill him! Don't you see what you've done? Are you that blind, Sirius? Do you really think it would help Remus to have a murder on his conscience? Are you that thick headed?"

Sirius glared at him, as if he was going to kill James now, but didn't say another word. He just continued up the stairs, and slammed the dormitory door behind him.

James spent the entire night sitting by the fire on the couch, his arms crossed and his eyes focused on the dancing flames. The vision of Snape paralyzed, looking up into the face of that wolf, kept appearing in the fire and replaying itself over and over again in his mind. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? What if he hadn't pulled Snape back?

Two of his friends would be murderers. Snape would be either dead or cursed just as Remus was. And Remus . what would ever happen if Remus lost himself forever? What if he did kill someone? It would be enough to kill that boy that he had befriended. He had never really understood the hatred that the world had had against werewolves, but seeing Snape's loathing in Dumbledore's office, he now realized what Remus faced every day. They didn't think of him as a person, but as a monster. A creature. A nothingness. Something that could easily be put to sleep without another thought about it.

What if someone found out about Remus, and they did kill him? Was it all of their fault because they just wanted to play around at night? Their childish games seemed so . immature . detached from the present moment . it had almost become deadly.

Who cared about the Marauder's Map? Who cared about turning into Animagus? Who cared about Quidditch games and House Cups and snitches and Lily Evans? Someone had almost died. His friend had almost become a murderer .

James's mind swarmed with fears and worries. He was so preoccupied that he forgot all about their plans for that night. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall walked into the common room, her eyes watery, and her face sunk. She spotted James, next to the fire, and quietly walked over to him.

"Mr. Potter," the sunlight was on her face. The dawn had come. He hadn't even noticed, "Mr. Potter, have you been here all night?"

James nodded glumly, still staring at the flames.

Professor McGonagall sighed, and then said slowly, "You are needed in the hospital wing."

Remus. James jumped up from his spot, and eyed her nervously.

"Is he all right? What happened? Does he remember anything? Did he ."

"Calm down, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "It's very urgent. He's in intensive care. Madam Pomfrey believes that you should see him."

"Is he going to be all right?" James demanded.

"I hope so, James," it was the first time that Professor McGonagall had called him by his first name. James's heart dropped into his stomach as he followed her out of the common room, and out of Gryffindor Tower to the hospital wing.

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!" Remus screamed, coughing through his words. Madam Pomfrey was fussing over him, trying to get him to hold still. He was covered in his own blood. One of his arms were broken, and his left eye was swelling to the size of a large plum. He was also delirious, as Professor McGonagall had warned him of before entering the hospital wing.

"Mr. Lupin, I must beg you to keep still ."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU COME!?" Remus shouted feverishly, thrashing his head, "WHY DIDN'T YOU COME! I TRUSTED YOU! I ."

"Moony, calm down," James said, and he took Remus's shaking hand. Remus squeezed his hand, and then thrashed again, "I TRUSTED YOU!" he screamed.

"Do you have any idea what in the world he's talking about?" Madam Pomfrey asked James, pouring a liquid into a vile, and thrusting Remus's mouth open.

"I . I don't know," James said.

"He's been screaming for the past half hour about rats and deers and dogs," she fussed over him, "That's good, drink up, honey. I really don't know what he's talking about," she added to James, "He hit his head badly on a staircase. I found him at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious," her voice trailed off, "But I shouldn't be talking to you about that. I thought maybe you could calm him down. I usually don't let visitors in the hospital wing, but I thought that maybe you could help him. That other boy wouldn't be any help, I knew that."

James was still looking at Remus, who was now quietly breathing. The vile of liquid seemed to be calming him down.

"That may help him," Madam Pomfrey said, "I'm going to give him some more medications, and he will hopefully make a full recovery. May have a possible concussion . but it could have been worse. Oh, when I found him, I could have sworn that he was dea ." she looked back at James, "I mean, that he was bad off."

She excused herself from the cubicle to find more potions, and James found himself alone with Remus, who was now blinking and loosening his grip on his hand. Which was a good thing, because his fingers were becoming numb.

"Hey, Moony, can you hear me?" James said quietly, taking a seat in the chair by his head, "Remus? Remus, are you in there?"

What if he was dead? What if the wolf was only left? What if the wolf had killed him?

"J-James?" Remus whispered hoarsely, and he blinked, "What - what happened? I - "

"You had a rough night," James said, "We didn't make it to the Shack."

"What - " he schrunched up his face, as if trying to remember. But it looked painful, so James cut him off.

"Something happened, Moony," James said, "Sirius - Sirius told Snape about the Willow. He told him to - to follow you down there. And he saw you."

Remus's face went paler than it had been, and he looked like he was going to throw up, "Did I - "

"No," James said solemnly, " I stopped him in time."

"So now everyone knows," he said, unattached, "He told everyone ."

"No, he didn't. Sirius scared him into keeping his mouth shut," James said, "Not to mention Dumbledore."

Remus looked like he was about to cry, "I almost - I - "

"No," James said, "No, don't you think like that. You didn't do anything wrong."

And then Remus closed his eyes, and rolled over in pain. In a few minutes, he was back to his delirious self, and James excused himself from the hospital wing.

James didn't speak to Sirius for days. It seemed that the two friends were separated forever. But James couldn't bring himself to look Sirius in the eyes. They had been so hollow. So . dead .

The sound of Sirius's laughter still haunted his dreams.


	35. Chapter 34: Uncle Alphard's Legacy

**CHAPTER 34  
UNCLE ALPHARD'S LEGACY**

It was after Christmas that Sirius received the letter from Aunt Elladora. He'd had a lovely time at the Potter's for Christmas. Sprite had been following Mr. Potter around the entire holidays, trying to get him to check on an upstairs closet. She thought that something had possessed the coats into jeering at her whenever she walked past them. But Mr. Potter had been distant from everyone this Christmas. Mrs. Potter had kept herself busy in the kitchen, doing the chores that Sprite was used to doing.

"No, Mistress Potter! Let Sprite do Sprite's job!" Sprite pleaded with her mistress as Mrs. Potter kicked her out of the kitchen, "Sprite wants to wash! Sprite wants to cook!"

James had tried to take his father up on a game of wizard's chess, but he had been too preoccupied with something, and left for "work." Mrs. Potter had then went upstairs for a nap.

But the holidays were still very cheery for Sirius, because this was his home now. No more Grimmauld Place. No more Kreacher. No more Mother and Father. No more Regulus or Bellatrix or Narcissa. He was free.

He wondered if his name had been blasted off the map yet.

The day the letter came to the Potter's residence, Sirius had given up on ever hearing from the Blacks again. It was from Aunt Elladora. He tore the envelope open.

It read:

_Sirius Black: _

_Your uncle, Alphard, died a week ago from a massive heart attack. He has left you some of his possessions in his will, and you are asked to attend the reading of his will on Saturday the 28th of December at Affairs and Welfares Cabinent at the Minsitry of Magic. _

_Sincerely, _

_Elladora Black _

Alphard was dead.

"Nice to tell me a week later," Sirius huffed as he got ready to go that Saturday morning. Mrs. Potter had offered to go along with him, but he had told her that this was something that he had to do himself.

He arrived at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and made his way through the phone booth, and down the hall to where the Affairs and Welfares Cabinet was situated. Third level corridor.

And then he saw the sight. Aunt Elladora, Bellatrix, Narcissa Mother, Father, Regulus, and standing a little away from the rest of the family, Andromeda with her sixth month old daughter in arms. Behind her, stood a handsome man that was trying not to make eye contact with any of the other people waiting outside the room. Andromeda looked miserable, but she forced a smile at Sirius as they embraced, and Sirius examined her child.

"She's a metamorphagus," Andromeda said, "Hasn't really gotten control of her powers yet. Looks like a new baby every day. Sometimes I have to tickle her to stop shifting."

Nymphadora looked up at Sirius, and smiled.

Sirius smiled back.

"Survivors of Alphard Black?"

An official barrister was now poised outside the door, holding a folder. He ushered them in, and they took their seats around the large table that was hovering in the middle of the room.

"We are here to read the last testament of Messr. Alphard Black," the barrister said, "We will begin now."

Andromeda took her husband's hand, and squeezed it. Sirius felt like he wanted to die. He had avoided his parents so far. Maybe if he pretended they weren't there. Maybe if he just kept looking straight ahead and pretended that they weren't there, would they not see him?

"I, Alphard Alexander Black, on the fourteenth of June, year nineteen hundred and seventy two, write my last testament. For my loving wife, Elladora Black, I leave one thousand Galleons. For my eldest daughter, Andromeda Black, I leave my flat in London and the sum of one thousand and forty two Galleons. For my daughter, Narcissa Black, I leave the sum of nine hundred and sixty three Galleons. And for my youngest daughter, Bellatrix Black, I leave the sum of four hundred Galleons. For my brother, I leave the sum of three hundred Galleons. And to my nephew, Sirius Black, I leave my remaining four thousand and twenty four Galleons."

"What?" Elladora shrieked, "Four thousand Galleons to that ingrate?!"

"That is what it says, Ms. Black," the barrister said, "Now please, sit back down and we will continue."

"The little brat doesn't deserve any of his money! He disgraced our name! He is dead to us!" Mrs. Black screeched from her spot next to Sirius's father.

Sirius's eyes grew hollow again.

"There must be some mistake," his father said, "Alphard and I spoke of our wills, and we knew who was getting what ."

"This is his last testament, Mr. Black," the barrister said, "Are you questioning the law?"

"No, I'm questioning my brother's sanity," he retorted.

"The will stands as his last wishes," the barrister said, "And by law, Sirius Black will receive four thousand Galleons from his uncle's estate."

If they hadn't hated Sirius before, the Blacks hated him now.

Andromeda worked as his bodyguard as they made their way out of the room, and back into the hallway. Aunt Elladora looked like she was going to kill him on the spot, and his mother was edging closer and closer, her hands twitching as if she wanted to place them around his neck and choke him.

"Dad," Sirius said finally, turning around to face his parents, "I am sorry about Uncle Alphard."

"Don't you call me that," his father said, "You never call me that again."

"Well, I'm your son, that's what I ."

"I don't have a son, other than Regulus," he retorted, "I never did. I never will."

Sirius's eyes grew more hollow than before, and his face turned stone cold. He narrowed his eyes, and then said, "And I never had a father, then."

"That's right, you didn't," he said, and then led a hysterical Mrs. Black out of the corridor and out of sight. She was still flexing her bony fingers.

"Well, nice to meet you, Sirius," Ted Tonks's hand was extended, and Sirius blinked at it. Then, he shook it, and smiled at Andromeda.

"You keep out of trouble," he said, and then turned to the little baby who had changed her nose and hair, "And nice to meet you, miss," he said, and smiled back at Andromeda.

"Do you have a place to go?" she asked, "We can make room ."

"I've got a friend. I've been crashing at his place for about half a year," Sirius sighed, "All right. Well, I better be getting back."

He stepped past Regulus, who was talking to Elladora and Narcissa, and down the hall. He was truly alone now. He had no family. He only had himself.

But since when had it been any different?

***

"Four thousand Galleons?"

"Yeah," Sirius said to a dismayed James, "There's an account open at Gringotts now for me."

"What are you going to do with Four thousand Galleons?" James asked.

"Well, I was thinking about getting out of your hair and finding my own place to live," Sirius said, "Some sort of a bachelor pad, or something. A flat in London or something."

James's face fell, "You want to move out?"

"No, I don't want to," Sirius said, "I think that I should, don't you? I mean, we can spice it up together. Decorate it. Get some posters, lights, music. You know, the whole package."

"Whatever you want to do, Padfoot," James said, "If you're sure you want to leave."

"I think it'd be best if I did," Sirius said.

"Well, I know that Dad knows a Muggle real estate agent ." James thought, "I guess that we can talk to him. Maybe get you a good deal on something. Four thousand Galleons!"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter agreed to help Sirius find a new place to live that next day. They took a trip to Gringotts in Diagon Alley, and exchanged a good chunk of his legacy into Muggle money. Then Mr. Potter referred him to his friend, and in no time, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James were moving in new furniture into the flat.

It was a little run down, but nothing that he couldn't call home. He looked around the living room, very content, as James helped Remus with an old motheaten couch.

"The girls will be flocking to you," Remus coughed, brushing the dust off of his arm.

They had all taken their last week of the holidays off to help him into his flat. He was very grateful toward them. Ever since the incident with Snape, he had felt as if Remus was trying to avoid him.

"This can be our headquarters," Peter said.

"Headquarters? What are you? Five?" Sirius snorted, and then grabbed one of the pillows sitting on the floor next to a box of kitchen utensils.

Peter turned red.

"Hey, Moony, catch," James said, throwing a box to him. Remus caught it, and then set in in one of the rooms out of sight. It was a smaller flat, yet big enough to be comfortable for him.

"It feels weird," James said, sitting down on the couch. Dust flew into the air, and Sirius coughed.

"What?" Peter asked.

"Well, Padfoot's moving out," James said, "He's all grown up now. It's like . we're not children anymore. We've got about a year left until we're out in the real world. Can you imagine any of us out by ourselves?"

"We're not going to be by ourselves," Sirius said, "We're gonna help each other out."

"All set to go," Remus said, clapping his hands together as he exited from the other room, "Ready to eat?"

"Where do you want to go?" Sirius asked courteously. Remus gave him a surprised look, as if being courteous was a first for him.

"Well," Remus said, "I was expecting somewhere in Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron?"

"Nah, too crowded," James said, "It's Saturday night. We can go to my place. Sprite will have a seizure when she realizes she can cook for a full crowd."

"Excellent," Sirius jumped up, and grabbed his keys, "Off to the Potter's it is, then."

Remus and Peter had never been to James's house. But they were greeted with the same enthusiasm as Sirius was by Sprite as they entered the house. Mr. Potter was no where to be seen, but Mrs. Potter was wiping her hands on an apron, her cheeks rosy and sweet, as the four boys entered, stomachs grumbling.

It was a matter of minutes by the time Sprite had put together everything in the kitchen together into a monstrosity of a feast. The six of them sat around the table, Grace being led by Mrs. Potter, and then Remus adding in a few words of his own. Then, they dug into their food, trying to make conversation through their bites.

"So, Remus, I've heard a lot about you," Mrs. Potter said. Remus eyed James and Sirius warily, before Mrs. Potter added, "How is your mum feeling these days? Better, I hope?"

"Yes, much better," Remus said, his face relaxing.

"Do you attend school with James, too?" Mrs. Potter asked Peter, who was stuffing his face full of chicken.

"Yes," he managed to get out before taking a swig of his wine.

"So, Padfoot," James asked Sirius, "What are you going to do with the rest of your money?"

Sirius swallowed, and then smiled at James, "Well, have you ever seen a motorcycle?"

James nodded.

"I'm looking into buying one of them," Sirius said, "Four speeds. Maximum flying velocity. An excellent choice for a vehicle."

"Those things can be dangerous," Mrs. Potter tutted, cutting her chicken into slices, "My uncle had one of those. He flew smack dab into an airplane. Never saw him again."

"They aren't that dangerous, Mum," James argued, "Your uncle was just dim, that's all."

There was laughter shared around the table, and then Remus said, "Thank you, Mrs. Potter. The food is delicious."

"Well, you're very welcome, Remus," Mrs. Potter said, handing him some more mashed pototatoes,

"Such wonderful manners you have. James could learn from you, I believe."

James made a face, and Remus smiled.

"How does your flat look, Sirius?"

"Great," Sirius said, "Can you thank Mr. Potter for me?"

"Of course."

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk, mostly getting to know the uncommon guests at the table. Sirius, Remus, and Peter left after dinner, thanking Mrs. Potter for a wonderful feast, and then remembering that Sprite had cooked it, turned to the disgruntled elf and apologized and then thanked her.

"Ah, no need to thank Sprite," Sprite said, shuffling her feet. But from the look on her face, they could tell there was a need to.

They said goodnight to James, and then the three boys trekked back to Sirius's new home to call it a night.

"So, who's got the couch?" Sirius asked, "Because I've got the bed."

"Doesn't matter to me," Remus said, "What do you reckon, Peter?"

"I'll take the couch," he said quickly, and then Sirius told Remus that he had a spare mattress he had brought from Wendy's room with him.

***

"Hey, Padfoot," Remus said as Sirius helped him dress the mattress.

"Yeah?" he was wrestling with the bed cover.

Remus looked at him, and then decided against saying what he was going to say, "Never mind."

"No," Sirius said, returning his stare, "What? What were you going to ask me."

"Nothing," Remus said quietly, and then pointed at Peter sleeping on the couch, "Sleeps like a rock, huh?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, still eyeing him.

It was quiet for a moment, while Sirius wrapped the mattress in a blue sheet, and then Remus said, very unsure of himself, "You didn't really . think that I was going to kill him, did you?"

"Can we not talk about it?"

"No," Remus said, "Because I don't understand you. I really don't. I thought that maybe ."

"Maybe what?" Sirius barked, dropping the mattress, "Tell me again how I maybe should have thought about it. Maybe I would have been a little more careful? Maybe I should have thought about you and the consequences? Tell me something I haven't heard, Remus."

Remus didn't say anything, but only took a sheet and draped it over his makeshift bed. Sirius sighed, and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"But it was a stupid thing to do," Remus added blandly.

Sirius let out a forced laugh, and then said, "He deserved every minute of it. Oh, what I would've given to have seen the look on his face when he saw you. It must have been priceless."

"Wish I could tell you," Remus said darkly, and then threw a pillow onto the bed.

Sirius looked at Remus. He was hurting. He could tell. And he felt a pang of guilt rush through his heart. But he shook it off, and just patted Remus on the back.

"Good night, Moony," he said sorely as he left the living room and shut the door quietly behind him as he entered the bedroom.

Remus looked after him. Sirius's back was turned to him. He looked years older. His hair was longer, his silhouette larger. James was right. They weren't little boys anymore.

Sirius was hurting. He could tell. More than he had ever hurt. But there was nothing that he could do to help him. As Dumbledore had told him many years ago, he would have to fight his own monsters.  
Sirius would have to fight his own monsters.


	36. Chapter 35: Beginnings of the Map

**CHAPTER 35  
BEGINNINGS OF THE MAP**

It was the end of sixth year that the Marauder's map was finally finished. Remus enchanted it to show everyone that was on school grounds. Soon, he had bewitched it not only to show people, but their names and instructions on how to get into the secret passageways.

"Very cool, Moony," James commented, looking over Remus's shoulder as Remus scribbled away.  
Sirius then put a lock charm on it. He was seen in the common room, putting the tip of his wand to his mouth, and whispering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" and then placing the wand on the paper.

Peter then put a nice erasing charm to go with the lock charm, and he leaned over Sirius's wand, and said loudly, "Mischief managed."

It was finally that night that James put the last spell on it that everyone found very funny. It was an insulting hex that would mercilessly insult anyone that didn't know the password ("I solemnly swear that I am up to no good"). To do this hex and make it personal, he had to take a fingernail from each marauder, and then crush them together and smash it into the parchment.

"Now to write the opening," James said, handing Remus a quill, "Go ahead. Sirius's handwriting's sloppier than yours anymore."

Remus took down all of their ideas, and then quickly scribbled the following message. It disappeared seconds after he wrote it.

"Very nice," Sirius commented, "And now to try it out."

They tapped the parchment, and James said, "Beginus."

The parchment went blank.

"And here we go," Sirius tapped the paper, "I am a stupid git that thinks I can get this map to work."

And all of a sudden, the paper flew to life.

_Messr. Moony would like to congratulate you, Sirius, on trying to get through our complicated spells. Sadly, you really are a stupid ugly git. _

_Messr. Prongs would like to second that, and also tell Sirius that he couldn't stay on a broomstick if his life depended on it. _

_Messr. Wormtail would also like to add his astonishment that Sirius could even create this map, due to the fact that he didn't pass first term Defense Against the Dark Arts. _

_Messr. Padfoot thinks that he gives himself too much credit. How could he forget the password that quickly? He was the one that made it up. _

"Wicked," Peter said, leaning into read what the invisible hand had written.

"Now, we try it the real way," Remus said, taking out his own wand, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And the words disappeared, and was replaced with the map that they had been drawing for the past few years.

"It works," James said enthusiastically, "It really works."

"Of course it works," Sirius said, "Since when have any of my plans turned hectic and full of chaos?"

***

It was later in the year that the teachers again bombarded them all with more homework than before. N.E.W.T.s were coming, and Professor Nanes was trying to explain to the class what exactly these tests entailed, but the boys weren't listening to a word she was saying, but staring into her eyes dreamily.

"You'd think that they could roll their tongues back into their heads long enough to listen to what she's saying," Lily scoffed to her friend as they walked up the stairs to Divination, "Especially James. Did you see the way he was looking at her?"

She hadn't realized that James was standing right behind her. James glared at her red hair, and Sirius gave out a snort.

"Oh, James," he said, making his voice sound like Nanes, "I want to kiss you."

"Geroff," James shoved him down a step, and continued to Transfiguration.

"You coming to visit, right?" Sirius said, "I don't think I can go the whole summer without some human interaction."

"I bet Elise would be happy to come over," Remus said, smiling slyly and coming up from behind them.

"What?" James asked.

"Oh, come on, Prongs," Sirius said, "Haven't you seen the way she looks at me? The way she looks at you?"

"A lot of girls look at us that way," James said quietly. He didn't mean for it to sound arrogant. He was just stating a fact.

"But . that bothers you somehow?" Remus said in awe, "Do you know what I'd give to have Elise look at me?"

"I don't care about them," James said, still watching the red hair disappear up the staircase.

"You're still not on about Evans, are you?" Sirius groaned.

"And what if I was?" James retorted, walking faster.

"She hates you," he said.

"No, she doesn't," Remus argued, "I think she likes you. But then again, we're talking about the girl who has a new boyfriend every term."

"I wonder why she breaks up with them all the time," Peter interjected from Remus. They hadn't even noticed him.

"Do you not remember six years' worth of fighting with her?" James said, "How every time that I come around her, she calls me arrogant and bullying?"

"Well, maybe she was just telling you the truth," Remus said, and Sirius barked with laughter.

James gave a glare to Remus, and his smile faded, "Now come on, James. You can have any girl you want! You're James Potter! Why would you want her so bad?"

"Because she's the one," James said, and Sirius groaned, "Not again," he said.

"Could you . possibly ask her for me?" James turned to Remus hopefully, "I mean, you know her, don't you? And you're going to her class, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Remus said, "But ---"

"So just put on that adorable smile and ask her if she'll go out to Hogsmeade with me," James prodded, "Please, Moony."

"Don't grovel, Prongs," Remus warned.

"I love her," James said. It had slipped out. Sirius raised his eyebrows, and Peter laughed from behind his hands.

"Oh, really?" Remus chortled.

"Please," he pleaded, and Remus sighed.

"I'll ask her. But don't expect anything to come from it."

***

It was after lunch that James cornered Remus into a corner, and demanded to know what Lily had said. Remus had sighed, and said, "I'm warning you to not kill the messenger, all right? I do not agree with anything she says ."

"Just --- what did she say?" James demanded.

"Well, I think it went something like this: 'It will be over my dead body that I ever go anywhere with that overrated," he counted the descriptions on his fingers, "adolescent, bullying, egotistical, undersized, ugly git," he nodded his head, "Yeah, I think that was about it. Oh. And then she added after throwing her tea leaves at me, that if you ask her again, she'll hex you in your sleep."

"That's it, huh?" James said, "Well, she forgot the 'egotrip on a broomstick,' this time. That's an improvement."

"No, I believe that she said that as well," Remus said, "And a long line of swearwords. Followed by a long line of swearwords from each of her friends. And then a long line of swearwords from Professor Juniper for interrupting her class."

James's heart sunk, and he let Remus go to his next class. It was hopeless. Useless. He should give up now.

But then he saw the bouncing hair of red over Remus's shoulder, and he forgot all bad thoughts in one instant.

"Oi, Evans!"

Lily turned around, hearing her name. She spotted James, and groaned.

"James Potter, leave me alone," she said, and whipped back around.

James glared, pushed Remus out of the way, "You think you're too good for me?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Lily said mockingly, snapping her head back toward him, "It's you that's too good for me. You're too good for anyone!"

"At least I don't switch girlfriends more times than I do my clothes!" James shouted back lamely.

Remus gave him a look.

"At least I don't have more than one boyfriend at once!" Lily retorted.

"You couldn't get more than one if you tried!"

"At least I HAVE a date!"

"Who is it this time, Evans? Snivellus? (Lily glares green at him) Oh sorry, must be 'Wetpants' again?"

"That's enough, James," Remus tugged on James's sleeve, "Let's get going."

"You haven't changed one bit," Lily shouted over the sea of heads, "Now how about you get your little friends to come over here and hex me again?"

"At least I have friends!"

"James," Remus hissed, "You're not helping your case."

James gave one more glare to Lily, and then started off in the other direction, Remus leading him far away from the confrontation.

"You'd think you were a first year," Remus said, "Every time you get around that girl …"


	37. Chapter 36: The Centaur's Field

**CHAPTER 36  
THE CENTAUR'S FIELD**

"Could the following students please report to Headmaster Dumbledore's office please," a voice shouted through the school on an invisible intercom, "Emmeline Vance, Caradoc Dearborn, Benjy Fenwick, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett."

James listened to the names being called off. A seventh year that was sitting two seats away from him at the Gryffindor table stood up, and walked to the exit of the Great Hall.

"They're all seventh years," Remus said, "Probably going to get rung out for a seventh year prank or something."

"I don't think so," Sirius said, taking a helping of tripe from the dinner plate that had just appeared, "I know Emmeline Vance. And she never causes any trouble. We don't get along very well," he added, smiling wryly.

"And Gideon and Fabian are prefects," Peter offered, "Not to mention that Benjy's Head Boy."

"So maybe it's an award ceremony for all the brown nosing gits of the school," James said, "Who knows."

"Well, last year they did the same thing," Remus said, "Sturgis Podmore was called down last June, and he never came back."

"Is that what happened to him?" Sirius said, somewhat interested, "I wonder what happened to him. He still owes me money."

"Did Dung get called down?" Remus asked.

"No," Sirius huffed, "Do you think that he would have gotten any sort of award whatsoever? Come to think of it," he took a bite of the tripe, "He owes me money, too."

"Hey, you guys," Davey Gudgeon sat down next to James, "How's your lives going?"

"Excellent," Sirius said, "And you?"

"Eye's all better," Davey said, "That Willow's wicked, ain't it?"

"Yeah," Remus said grimly.

"So, what do you think those seventh years were going to see Dumbledore for?" Davey asked.

"We were just discussing that," Remus said, "We have no idea."

"Well, I heard from Sturgis last year that Dumbledore calls five students down every year," Davey said, "Since,you know, You-Know-Who came. And then he tells them that he's been watching them. Creepy, you know?"

"And then what happens?" Remus asked.

"Well, Sturgis wouldn't tell me anymore," Davey said, "Sworn to secrecy or something. He seemed sort of upset, though. And then he packed his bags, and left school. Don't know what would have made his panties get up in a bunch like that, though. You know? It's weird."

"Yeah," Remus said, "Yeah," he looked at the exit of the Great Hall.

***

Padfoot pushed Moony out of the hole, gasping. Moony must have put on some weight. He gave one more shove, and the reluctant werewolf stepped out into the full moon. Moony waited for it to hit him full force. It would just be seconds until he .

Nothing was happening. He opened his eyes, and looked around. Prongs was smiling down on him. His shadow fell on top of him, and Moony smiled. Slowly, Prongs backed away, exposing his friend to the moonlight.

The wolf gave a small growl from inside Moony's mind, but Moony courageously bit it back, and his smile grew wider.

Wormtail came running out of the tunnel, and squeaked his arrival. They were back in the Forbidden Forest. Last time they had come out here, they hadn't made it very far, and they now wanted to find out what lay beyond the few trees that they had seen from their window in the dormitory.

Prongs nodded his head to a small overgrown path to their left. Padfoot nodded, and shoved Moony in between him and the stag. Wormtail scattered ahead of them, and became sidetracked for a moment while he chattered with a newfound rat friend in a bush.

Padfoot growled, and Wormtail squeaked, and went back into position. They then made their way down the trail, scoping out their surroundings. Prongs noticed a flash of white next to a pond off in a clearing. It was beautiful, and he stopped to stare at it in fascination. It was a unicorn.

The creature raised its head, and perked its ears back, staring at the stag.

_BEWARE.  
_  
Prongs blinked, and the unicorn was gone.

Padfoot nudged him from behind Moony, and Prongs turned toward him. Prongs shrugged. And then, he caught the flash of white over Padfoot's shoulder. He looked closer.

This time it wasn't a unicorn, though. It was a deer. A white deer. It was stumbling along. Prongs looked closer, and saw that its chest was badly hurt. A green tinge could almost be seen to where its heart would be. Or was it just the night's light reflecting off of its gleaming coat?

Padfoot followed Prongs's gaze, and then looked to Prongs. He was wearing a look of confusion, and Prongs snorted for him to look back at the deer.

The deer had fallen from sight, though, and Prongs began to walk towards it, mesmerized. But Moony and Prongs growled, and he stopped.

What was the matter with them? Why wouldn't they let him go help it? It was obviously hurt!

Moony growled again, and Prongs was sure it was Moony and not the wolf.

They continued on with their journey, but Prongs was still thinking about the deer. What had been wrong with it?

Wormtail squeaked again, and pointed his small rat paw to the left. They saw a break in the thicket of trees, and the four of them headed off for the clearing.

The wind rustled in the field as they emerged from the trees. They had no idea where they were. They had never seen this place before. They hadn't even heard of it.

It seemed as if no one had ever seen this clearing before, surrounded by the dark forest, and illuminated by the perfect skies. It was protected from the Great War. It was protected from Voldemort. It was protected from the world.

Padfoot stared around in awe at the overgrown grass, moving in the wind in time with the Earth. The crickets and locusts chirped and sang their night songs. No birds were heard. No screams or howls from the Forbidden Forest. Just the quiet and silence of the field.

Prongs felt a shiver go up his spine. He didn't know if he liked this place very much. It was too . serene.

Moony felt his head clear completely. He looked, wide eyed, at Prongs, who was shifting nervously in his position. He smiled, and then turned to Padfoot. Padfoot had his eyes closed, and concentrating.

Moony gasped, and shook his head vigorously, but Padfoot wouldn't stop. Soon, the black dog was gone, and was replaced with a sixteen year old boy.

Sirius stood, getting off of all fours, and took another look around. Prongs, in horror, stepped between Sirius and Moony, snorting.

"James, it's okay," Sirius said, "It's okay."

Prongs looked disdainfully at Sirius, and then closed his own eyes. Soon, James had taken the place of the stag.

"Are you nutters?" he shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Shh," Sirius said. Moony looked at his two friends. He wasn't afraid, though. Not this time. He was himself. He was Remus Lupin. The wolf had gone completely.

Wormtail looked up, squeaked again, and transformed into Peter. Peter got to his feet, and dusted his robes free of dirt.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"That's a very good question," James said, "First there's that ruddy deer, now it's ---"

"What deer?" Peter interrupted, "What are you talking about?"

"Shut up, you two," Sirius barked, "Do you hear that?"

"No," James said, trying to listen, "All I hear is the wind."

"And the crickets," Peter added.

"Shut up," the two said at once.

Moony sat down, off to the side. He was free! He was himself, completely! He smiled at his friends, to see if they had noticed his change. But they were preoccupied. Sirius looked spooked.

"Someone's crying," he said, "Someone's shouting my name."

"Who is it?" James asked.

"I don't know," he said, "Sounds sort of like you ."

"Where's it coming from?" Peter asked.

Sirius turned his head, like a dog trying to pick up a scent. His eyes scanned the line where the trees were placed on the outline of the field. Nothing. There was no one else there with them. It was just them. But --- but he could hear the voice. It sounded like a child. Maybe a little younger than them ---

"It is you," Sirius whispered to James, "It sounds just like you."

James looked at Sirius, and then to where he was staring. He pulled on his arm, and said in a shaky voice, "Let's get going. I don't like this place."

"I don't hear anything," Peter informed them, but when he turned back around, Prongs and Padfoot had returned to animal form, and was pushing Moony back onto his legs. Quickly, Peter thought about the rat, and felt himself change.

Prongs pranced through the grass, and back into the trees. The calmness was erased from memory, and Moony shivered as he returned to the forest. The wolf was reborn inside of his heart, and he choked him back.

The voice had disappeared, and Padfoot looked back at the meadow. But from the west side, it now looked more like a wasteland. The grass was gone, and dirt clods covered the ground. The skeletons of trees stood like dark shadows over the clearing, and their spindly fingers grabbed out at the air.

Padfoot shuddered.

***

As soon as Remus had turned back into human form, he rushed to the library. Madam Pince had whispered to him, "Forty Galleons, Mr. Lupin," as he had entered, and he pretended that he hadn't heard her.

His mind was still set on finding out what that field had been. He hadn't felt the wolf totall gone ever since . well . ever since he had been bitten. If he could find out what it had been . why . well, he could possibly find a cure for his curse.

"What's up, Moony?"

Remus turned to face James, who was looking extremely tired. Remus forced a smile and nodded,

"Nothing much. What are you doing here? I thought you hated the library."

"It's against my religion," James grinned, "And also, I wanted to look up something."

"Still thinking about the field, too, huh?" Remus said sorely as he walked into an aisle of bookshelves.

"You too?" James said, "I can't get my mind off of it. I can still see that deer. It really was weird."

"Deer?" Remus looked at him, "What deer?"

"Don't you remember?" James furrowed his brow, "It was hurt. And it was glowing green ."

"Prongs, there wasn't any deer anywhere," he said, "We walked for like . miles, and the only things I saw was that unicorn."

"So you saw the unicorn?" James went on, exasperated. Was he going insane?, "And you heard what it said, right?"

"No," Remus said, looking at James like he was mad, "Unicorns don't talk, James."

"You … you didn't hear it?"

Remus looked very worried, and he turned his eyes to the shelf, "It must have been some sort of magic."

"Well, I figured that much," James scoffed, "But what did it show us? Sirius said that he heard me screaming his name out there in the grass. And I saw a deer. We both heard the unicorn say, 'Beware.'"

"Sirius heard the unicorn, too?" Remus turned back to him. James nodded.

Remus took a book off of the shelf, "Natural Magic, by Gustafo Warling," he said, "Maybe we can find it in here."

The two boys found a seat at a table, and opened to the index.

"What exactly are we looking for?" James asked, "Fields? Voices? Deers?"

"How about premonitions?" Remus said, scanning the page, "Page forty six."

They turned the page, and came face to face with a run down field, that quickly switched to a beautiful meadow, and back to a run down field.

"That's it," James said, "What's it say?"

"Centaurs are known to create these large divinational devices," Remus said, "They are unnamed, and there have only been three found in the world. Centaurs begin by clearing out an area, and opening the area to the stars. Then, with unknown proceedings, they create a foreshadowing illusion, much like the one found in the Mirror of Erised (see page sixty four). The fields are usually guarded by a 'Guardian,' which has been known to be a unicorn."

"So that's what that thing was," James said.

"No one to this day knows truly what the Centaur seer envisions while standing in the field. Yet we have composed a drawing of what one may see at certain areas of the field."

Remus looked at the drawing below. There was a diagram of the field, with different colored circled drawn ontop, like in a ripple or a target. In the very middle, it read "LOVE." Then, in the next largest circle, it read "PAST." The next largest circle read, "PRESENT." Then came "TRUTH." Then, where Remus must have been standing, "PURITY." Finally, on the outside, where the other three had been, it read "FATE."

It gave a detailed account of each circle. Remus scanned the page for PURITY, and read it to himself:

_PURITY: The cleansing of a soul from everything but the soul itself. Used for a coming of age ritual within the Centaur clans. _

Remus went to the next description. FATE.

_FATE: Fate is the most ominous of the six circles in the field. The one who stands in this area will witness, hear, or feel his impending fate. _

"What's it say?" James asked.  
Remus looked back at James, and then shook his head, "Just a bunch of Centaur hocus pocus. Nothing to worry about."


	38. Chapter 37: Mr Potter's Absence

**CHAPTER 37  
MR. POTTER'S ABSENCE**

Remus was right about the seventh years. Everyone who had been named over the intercom had never been seen inside the school walls again.

And it didn't really cause any disturbance, since there was only a few more days of school left. Sirius was looking forward to having the boys over for a week of fun and marauding in London sometime in July. And in the meantime, he was going to check out motorbikes to purchase with his remaining money from Uncle Alphard.

Soon, the four of them were boarding the Hogwarts Express to return to London. Sirius was talking excitedly to Remus about all the décor he was going to add to his flat, and Peter was listening with excitement, sometimes interrupting them with a "I've seen one of those!" or "That would look excellent with the couch!"

James not being the interior decorating sort of person, had zoned out completely from the conversation. He pushed his belongings in front of him, and Dag hooted as he stopped the cart in front of the storage car.

"You need help there, Miss?"

James looked up, and saw the conductor trying to help Lily Evans lift her large trunk.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," she said, adjusting her prefect badge on her cloak before trying to heave the trunk up into the car again.

"You sure," James said, as another train worker took his things. He walked over to her, and took hold of one side of the trunk, "On the count of three, lift it, all right?"

Lily gave him a look of distate, but did as he said, "One, two, three." They heaved the large trunk into the car, and James mussed his hair as the two of them stepped out of the way of the line of students piling behind them.

"That thing must way a ton," James commented, "What do you have in there?"

"Different things," she said, and then quickly added a, "Thanks."

"Yeah, any time," James said, "You see, egotrips on broomsticks come in handy sometimes."

Lily's face dropped, and she crossed her arms, "You know," she said cautiously, "I've been thinking about what I said."

"Now which instance are we talking about?" James muttered.

Lily smiled guiltily, and then said, "Well, I'm talking about in particular what I told Remus Lupin to tell you."

"Oh, it didn't bother me," James said, "I forgot all about it."

Lily's face dropped again, "Well, I was sort of … regretting … saying the things I said. It was very immature of me. I know I've said some pretty … harsh … things in the past years. And, well . we are going into our seventh year, and I thought it was time for me to grow up and ."

"And what?" James prodded.

"And apologize," she said quickly, "There. I said it. I'm sorry. Now it's your turn."

James blinked, "What? What did I ever do to you?"

"Well, for one," Lily said, "You embarrassed me in front of my friends."

"I didn't ---"

"I knew you couldn't grow up," she interrupted her, putting a hand up to silence him, and then walking back in the direction of her giggly friends.

It was now or never. It was the moment of truth. James breathed in deeply, and shouted, "Hey, Evans!"

Lily turned to look at him, ready to say another rude comment.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too," he said quickly before she could open her mouth.

Lily looked surprised, and she stood looking at him with that wide eyed expression for a moment, before smiling, nodding, and turning back to her friends. She disappeared in the sea of students clambering onto the train.

"Hey, Prongs! Get on the train!"

James turned to see his three friends' heads hanging out their usual compartment, ushering him to come join them. He grinned, and jumped onto the passenger car.

***

"Come on, you stupid lock!" Sirius jiggled the Muggle keys to his lift. He had changed into his Muggle clothes in the loo of King's Cross. Mr. Potter had warned him that his real estate friend was non-magical, therefore, so would his home. No wizard clothes. No magic.

Not to mention that he was an underage wizard, still.

"Work!" Sirius shouted at the door knob, "Work, you bloody lock!"

"You need some help?"

He looked up from his door, to come face to face with a woman, carrying a shopping bag. It was the same woman from the park. The mother with the boy on the swing. And sure enough, standing next to her and holding a toy car, was her son.

"Yeah, sure," Sirius said, and stood back. He slicked his hair back, and looked down at the boy. The boy smiled at him.

"It won't open?" she said, setting her bag down.

"No," Sirius said, "I can't get it to turn."

"My friend Estella used to live here," she said, taking Sirius's keys from him and sticking them in the keyhole, "You just have to practically break the door down to get in there."

And, with a kick of her foot, the door slammed open. She smiled, and pulled her bangs out of her eyes, "There you go."

"Thanks," he said, taking the keys back, "I'm Sirius Black."

"Jessica Lindher," she extended her hand, "I live here with my husband and son, Joey."

"Well," Sirius said, shaking hands with her, "Thanks."

"You seem a little young to be out on your own," Mrs. Lindher said, picking up her shopping bag again, "First time away from home?"

"I guess you could say that," Sirius said.

"Well, we're right down the hall in 4C if you need any more doors open or anything. I know how hard the first flat can be," Mrs. Lindher smiled at him, "And stay out of trouble."

"I will," he lied, and picked up his trunk, "Thanks again."

He slammed the door shut, and looked back at the door lock, and then at the keys. Stupid Muggle inventions.

He threw the keys on his kitchen table, and then dragged his belongings back into his bedroom. No Chudley Cannons posters hung here. The walls were bare. Maybe he could redecorate with some Mad Mike posters. It was his favorite band.

He fell onto his bed, and he heard a spring from the mattress break. It wasn't home yet, but it was better than intruding on the Potter's lives, and it was much better than 12 Grimmauld Place.

Joey. That's what his name was. The little boy on the swings lived a beautiful life, with his toys, his mother and father who obviously loved him.

It hit him like cold ice that he was alone now. He didn't have James to tell him what to do. He didn't have anyone to come up with elaborate plans or even ideas on what to do to take up the evening. He didn't have a screaming mother at him.

He was free. He could do anything that he wanted to do.

Sirius grinned as he sank back into the mattress. He had the whole summer to do what he damn well pleased.

And he thought that he would begin his summer by walking to James's house.

***

"So, ten minutes away from me and you couldn't take it, could you?" James laughed as they walked up to his room. Music was blaring from an unknown speaker inside his walls. Wizard Wireless.

"Nice choice of music," Sirius said.

"Thanks," he said, and then shut the door behind them, "So what was wrong with your flat?"

"Too quiet," Sirius said, "Too . Muggle-ish."

James laughed, "Met any of the Muggle neighbors yet?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, "Jessica Lindher …"

"Ooh, who's Jes-ih-cah?" James smirked, jumping onto his bed.

"… And her son and husband," Sirius added, "She's as old as my mother."

James's face dropped, as if he wanted to wash out his mouth, "Well, better luck next time, mate."

Sprite opened the door, with a basket of clothes, and waved at Sirius, dropping the basket on her foot, "Oh! Sprite is in pain!"

"You can just set that over there," James pointed to his closet.

"Oh, thank you, Master James, for letting Sprite do Master James's laundry! Sprite had much fun!" Sprite limped over to the closet, basket in hand, "And Mistress Potter wanted to welcome Master Sirius back for the day."

"Thanks," Sirius said, taking a chair, "So, James. Is your dad here?"

"Master Potter hasn't been home for days," Sprite said, "Sprite has been waiting for Master Potter to return home, but Master Potter hasn't."

"What's up?" Sirius turned to James, who was looking sort of weak.

"Well, I really don't know," James said.

Sprite, seeing the look on the boys' faces, decided that it was a good time to go. She cleared her throat, and then said quickly, "Well, Mistress Potter says that Master James and Master Sirius's sandwiches are almost ready."

And then she let herself out and shut the door behind her.

"Mum says that he left a few nights ago. Said that he had to show some rookies the ropes or something."

"Do you think it has anything to do with that Order?" Sirius asked.

"Probably," James said grimly, "I wouldn't be surprised. But, according to Mum, he's just on another business trip. He won't talk to me anymore. It's like he isn't even the person that I grew up with. He's a total stranger anymore. And his hair's been thinning. Getting grayer. He looks a lot older."

"Can you turn this music off," Sirius said.

James clicked his fingers, and it went silent. Quieter than the field.

"Have you heard about the Jessons?" James asked slowly.

"No," Sirius said, "Who are the Jessons?"

"Barnard Jesson was in the Order," James said, "And his entire family was killed last night. All of them. Not just his immediate family, but his brothers and sister's families as well. Sirius, they're growing. And look at this," he went to a drawer, and opened it. Out came spilling hundreds of clipped articles from the Daily Prophet, most of them with the Dark Mark plastered on the picture.

"There was another Muggle killing just last week," he said, fishing through the papers, "An entire village, Sirius. And a few nights ago, there were four killings right in a row. One for every hour of their rampage. No one knew where they were going to strike next. They weren't even targeting anyone!" James said, "Just random people! One of them was a ninety year old Muggle! And here --- look! The Minister says that our country is in a state of emergency! And Mr. Crouch isn't even giving anyone trials anymore! They're just shoving them into Azkaban!"

"So the world's coming unglued," Sirius sighed, "What's new."

"The Great War started a long time ago," James said, "And soon we won't have Hogwarts to go to and escape from it. We're going to either have to fight it or die."

"I don't think it's that bad ---"

"But it is, Padfoot," James looked back at his drawer, "Voldemort is stronger than anyone thought. He isn't just a terrorist with a few tricks up his sleeve. He's a General. He's got an army. And he's going to take out anyone that stands in his way."

The door opened again, and Sprite appeared, fidgetting with her worn red mitten, "Sandwiches are ready."

James shut the drawer, and followed Sirius and Sprite downstairs for their food.


	39. Chapter 38: The Motorbike

**CHAPTER 38  
THE MOTORBIKE**

"Hey, Moony," James opened the door to reveal his friend sitting in the hall with a backpack slung over his shoulder, "Think you brought enough? Don't know how we're going to make room."

"Funny," Remus said, walking into Sirius's flat, "Where's Padfoot?"

"I don't know," James shut the door, and walked to the couch, flopping down, "He just told me to wait here and let you guys in. Left me the keys and left. Said he had a surprise."

Remus furrowed his brow, and then took his bag into Sirius's room, "Did he say anything else?"

"Nothing," James said, "But you know him. Always making an entrance. Is Wormtail coming?"

"Yeah," Remus said, "I've been sending owls to him since June, and all he's been talking about is visiting this place," he laughed, "It's like the highlight of his summer."

He sat down on the couch, and dust flew from it and swirled into the air.

"And just in case you were wondering," he said, "I am werewolf free for the next week."

"That's good," James commented, "Wouldn't want to turn this place into the Shrieking Shack, would we?"

"No, we wouldn't," Remus said grimly, and then let out a deep breath, "I wonder where he is."

***

"You know how to drive those things, right?"

Sirius smiled slyly at the salesman, and said, "Man, I was born to drive those things."

"You do have your permit, don't you?" the balding, pudgy man had glasses smaller than Dumbledore's, placed on the end of his nose. He wore a uniform vest that read, "RICK'S MAGICAL MOTORS."

In front of him stood the most beautiful sight that he had ever seen. Black, sleek and shiny, with white streaks. Cloaked capability. Four flying speeds. Leather seating. It would go perfect with his jacket.

"Yeah, just got it yesterday," Sirius said, and then ran his hand over the seat.

"Well, it is a lofty bundle of money," the salesman said, "You do know how much these things cost, right?"

He was staring at Sirius as if he was expecting him to grab the bike and fly out of the store without paying. But what was new? Sirius looked the type.

"And I'm ready to pay in full," Sirius took out a handful of Galleons, and showed them to the salesman.

The look on the man's face was one of pure joy. He didn't care whether or not Sirius was Voldemort or not, he had a customer reeled it. He grabbed Sirius's money, and pointed to the inside of his dealership, "Follow me."

Sirius grinned.

Minutes later, he was flying out of Diagon Alley, his cloaking device on while he drove through the sky and clouds. This was life! Everything was coming together for him. He now had his own vehicle, his own house, friends .

Yes, everything was perfect.

He saw his flat building below, and revved the motorbike closer to the ground. Finally, he landed, and blew his windblown hair out of his face.

"Hey, mates!" he shouted up at his window, "Look who's come home!"

A few seconds later, Remus and James were poking their heads out of the window, and James laughed, "It's a motorbike!"

"Those things are supposed to be dangerous," Remus commented.

"Oh, geroff, you know you want to take it for a ride, Moony," Sirius chortled, jumping off of it's seat, "Get down here!"

They disappeared from the window, and quickly appeared at the doorway of the building, looking at the bike like it was a new toy. They were practically drooling over it.

"How much did it cost you?" James said.

"About seven hundred galleons," Sirius said, "It's used. But it's still looking new."

Remus ran his hand across the chrome body, "How fast does it go?"

"Faster than Snivelly from a soap bar," Sirius said, "It's amazing! Want to take it for a spin?"

"Do I? Do you have to ask?" James jumped onto the bike, and turned the ignition.

"Should we expect you back sometime today?" Remus grinned, as James hovered in the air, and then disappeared.

***

"Nice dinner, Padfoot," James commented, putting his fork down on his now empty plate, "Didn't know you could cook."

"I can't," Sirius said, slamming the trash can lid down, "It's called 'takeout.' An excellent Muggle invention. Sort of expensive, but hey, I don't have any complaints yet."

Peter nodded, swallowing the last of his dinner, "It was delicious."

"Glad you liked it," Sirius sat back down at the table, holding his mail, "And so nice of you guys to write to me."

"Well, we were going to see you," Remus said, "It seemed pointless."

"Is that the paper?" James asked, peeking over his shoulder.

Sirius raised his brow, and then said, "Yes, and we're not looking at it today."

He stood up again, and walked back to the trash can. He opened the lid, crumpled the paper, and threw it in. James sighed, and crossed his arm. Remus looked from Sirius to James, and then back to Sirius.

"So I guess that you've been keeping up on the war, hey?" he said.

"I'm not talking about it this entire week," Sirius said defiantly, "This is our week. And I'm not ruining it by reading that rubbish about the end of the world."

"It's not rubbish," James said, "At least, to some of us that are blood traitors."

"And what would you call me, Prongs?" Sirius said, sitting back down and leaning on the back two legs of his chair, "A good little pureblood? I'm sitting at a table with a blood traitor and a werewolf - no offense, Moony."

"None taken," Remus said.

"I've been blacklisted, along with the rest of you," Sirius said, "Well, at least Wormtail's still a good little boy."

"Just because my family is pure, doesn't mean that they support You- Know-Who," Peter retorted.

"And what is all this 'You-Know-Who' business?" Sirius growled, "His name's Voldemort."

Peter shuddered.

"He's right," Remus turned to him, "You should use his real name."

"And look, I'm being pulled back into this conversation," Sirius stood up, and walked to the kitchen, "I'm not talking about it anymore. End of discussion. On with life."

"I'm glad some of us can ignore it," James muttered, looking glumly at the tabletop, and then mussing his hair.

***

It was quiet that night in the flat. James had kicked Sirius out of his bed, and was snoring loudly from the bedroom. Remus was back on the spare mattress, and Peter had claimed the couch again. This left Sirius the floor. But it didn't matter, because he couldn't sleep. He was crouched on the window seat, looking out at the skyline of London. It was so peaceful. It seemed more like a picture out of a book than the real thing. This city that had gone through so much heartache, still stood proud and tall. Plagues, poverty, fires, revolution, Grindelwald ...

And now Voldemort.

His mind had been racing the entire night, ever since dinner. He had sworn that he wouldn't think about it. But his brain wouldn't shut off.

Sirius looked at the sliver of the moon above, and narrowed his eyes. That little light, that crest of light . it changed lives. Remus was a monster because of it. Sirius, Peter, and James were Animagi. The Shrieking Shack had been built. They had the Marauder's Map, and knew Hogwarts better than any other student in history. How could one light in the sky do all of that?

Little things can make a difference, Sirius thought. Little things do change the world.

James sounded with a particularly loud snore from the other room.

Sirius felt his shoulders sag. He had wanted to change his destiny. He had wanted to rewrite the stars when he was little. It was easy to say back then, when he had a house with his family, and when the biggest thing he could do to rebel was to beg the Sorting Hat not to be placed in Slytherin. Now it was a life or death situation.

It wasn't so easy now.

He didn't have a family. He had given everything up to become who he was. And now, when the call to duty came, and he was graduated, and he could change the world - Would he?

Would Sirius Black, son of Dark Wizards and purebloods, give his life for Muggles and Muggle-borns? If the time came that his own hide was at stake for Remus, or James, or Peter - would he save them?

He looked back at the skyline, illuminated by the moon. And he knew his answer to that question.

"You still up?"

Sirius jolted a bit, and saw James now quite awake standing at the doorway, "Did I wake you up?"

"Nah," James mussed his hair, "Not really. You know me, can't sleep when it's … all weird in the world …"

Sirius sighed, and then stood to his feet, "A ride then?"

***

The Leaky Cauldron was near to empty as Sirius and James showed themselves out, a few butterbeers in them (James more than Sirius). They clapped each other on the back, job well done, and continued on down the alley where they tapped bricks and entered a quiet Diagon Alley. No one was there , which made it even more of a drunken adventure.

"I like it enough," James started, "I really do. It's just a bit … Muggle-ish, don't you think?"

"Nah," Sirius said, "I like the normalcy of it all. And every time I make a Muggle friend, my mum shrivels up and dies a bit more. I can feel it, and it brings me a great lot of joy."

And then they saw it. Three shadows in an alley Sirius was quite sure he'd been down one too many times. Sirius stopped James abruptly, and pointed at them.

"What the hell are three people doing in Knockturn at this late hour?"

"What aren't they doing?" James laughed, "Forget on it, let's get going. I hear the Fizzing Fireballs is open later than anything here ---"

"No, seriously, what are they ---"

And then the three shadows came into the streetlight. And Sirius grabbed James and ducked behind a doorframe.

The first was with white, long hair. The second with a ghoulish face. And the third ---

"Snivelly?" James cracked a smile, and Sirius grew dark.

Lucius Malfoy touched Snape's shoulder, and Sirius quieted James's laughing. "As your friend, I am going to tell you what I believe to be the right choice, Severus, "the bratty albino prat said to the oil rag, "It is a great honor. And we shouldn't take our recommendation lightly."

"I'm not, I --- if I speak to her one more time and --- I was planning on trying to speak to her in the fall --- I wouldn't want to regret my decision, Lucius."

"She is gone from you, Snape," Lucius said, "This is a much larger choice than anything she is concerned in."

"That is not true."

"Oh for God's sake, she's just a Mud ---"

And Snape's wand was out. Right underneath his friend's nose. Lucius stared at him incredulously.

"Don't," Snape said, "You are the closest person I have to a friend, Lucius. But don't. You dare."

"Have you ever thought you ain't gotten no one else 'cause you always on about this?" the third boy said, and Snape looked ready to kill.

"And keep your lackey quiet," Snape said, and Lucius snarled at him.

"You standing up to me, Severus?"

"Snivellus more like it!" James laughed, and Sirius pressed him back to the wall. But it was too loud and too late. Snape and the other three snapped around, caught their shadows in the light, and Snape's eyes blazed fury.

***

"HOLY DAMN IN HELL!" Sirius crowed.

The speeding motorcycle took the sharp corner so fast in the darkness that James nearly lost his dinner. Sirius gave out a howl, throwing his leather gloved fist into the air, "EFFING MOTORBIKE THIS IS!"

"Keep going! They don't have us!"

Three stolen broomsticks from Diagon Alley with three ugly gits charged at them through the night sky, pecking along from afar like crows. James had been quite sure they could've taken them back at Knockturn but Sirius knew when to pick his fights and was quite sure after the third time of getting blood sprayed on his new leather jacket that he and a very-gone James was not going to cut this one.

With a wink of its red tail lights, the motorbike vanished up a narrow side street and James held on for dear life. Leaning hard on the controls and crashing the gears, Sirius charged on. A quarter of an hour they'd been on this ---

SCREECH! The bike came to a halt, and the two boys stared up at a towering brick wall. And then they looked in the other direction, to where a Muggle police car was crawling towards them like some growling luminous-eyes predator.

"Oh, Merlin, what the hell are they gonna do, shoot at us," James muttered, and Sirius waved his hand.

"A bit of fun, that's all, Prongs."

There was so little space between the car doors and the walls of the alley that the two Muggles had difficulty extricating themselves from the vehicle. Sirius could tell it injured their dignity to have to inch, crab-like, towards the miscreants. The first dragged his generous belly along the wall, tearing buttons off his shirt as he went, and finally snapping off the wing mirror with his backside.

"Get off the bike!" he bellowed at them, but they only sat basking in the flashing blue light. Enjoying every minute of it.

But with Sirius's lead, they did as they were told. Finally pulling free from the broken wing mirror, the portly one glared at them.

"No helmet!" he yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. "Exceeding the speed limit by-by a considerable amount! Failure to stop for the police!"

"We'd have loved to stop for a chat," James said,"Only we were trying--"

"Don't get smart-you two are in a heap of trouble!" snarled the second Muggle, "Names!"

"Names?" repeated Sirius, "Er-Well, let's see. There's Wilberforce...Bathsheba...Elvendork..."

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy OR a girl," said James.

"Oh, our names, did you mean?" asked Sirius, as the Muggle spluttered with rage."You should've said! This here is James Potter, and I'm Sirius Black!"

"Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little-"

But neither James nor Sirius was paying attention. For there, at that very moment, was their first problem reincarnated and dashing into the alley from above. Severus, Lucius, and Ugly Lackey all armed and bleeding and turning different colors of pus and boils as badly as the person next to them.

And then in identical, fluid movements, James and Sirius soberly reached into their back pockets and whisked out their wands.

"Drumsticks?" jeered the Muggle, "Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of--"

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" they howled, and the policemen wheeled around, then staggered backwards. The police car was rearing up into the air ---

The fat Muggle's knee bucked and they both fell on top of one another as flump-bang-crunch- they heard the mean on brooms slam into the suspended car and fall, apparently insensible, to the ground, while broken bits of broomstick clattered down around them.

And Sirius started his bike without hesitation.

"Thanks very much!" called Sirius over the throb of the engine."We owe you one!"

"Yeah, nice meeting you!" a still quite staggered James slurred, "And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

There was an earth-shaking crash, and the Muggles threw their arms around each other in fright; their car had just fallen back to the ground. Now it was the motorcycle's turn to rear. Before the policemen's disbelieving eyes, it took off into thin air: James and Sirius zoomed away into the night sky, their tail light twinkling behind them like a vanishing ruby.

***

"You WHAT?!" Remus looked at the drunk James laughing uncontrollably on the couch. Sirius sighed, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Only a bit of fun really, that's all," Sirius said, "It really ---"

"You are --- Dumbledore already is watching you carefully because of what happened last year, and now this? And Snivellus? Really?"

"Oh stop being such a mother!"

"Oi! Yeah! A mother!" James sniggered, and Remus looked to him.

"You gotta admit though, Remus," Sirius said, a big smirk across his face, "It does lighten up the mood of all this war bullocks to see Snivellus's nose smashed against a car door. I mean, it was quite satisfying for me, wasn't it for you, James?"

James broke into another round of laughter.

"And look at him," Remus said, "You think that's good for him? To be like this?"

Sirius shrugged again, "I find it a perk. Seeing him happy. You should try it sometime, Remus."

Remus gave out an aggravated explicative and reached out his hands to choke Sirius before James caught his breath and said, "Wah --- whait wait wait. I --- hoo --- I ---" and then broke out into laughter again.

Which only made the other two break their bickering and join him.

And soon the only one not laughing was little Peter, who quietly watched the other four from his place near the corner.

_*a portion of this chapter was taken from J.K. Rowling's notes. All unoriginal words are accredited to her._


	40. Chapter 39: Lily

**CHAPTER 39  
LILY**

The week back at school was very different than the past six first weeks. For one, they were seventh years, and looked upon as gods. If James Potter had not been loved before, he was now. Not to mention that Sirius had had the same luck as him. Yet something had changed in them. They had deflated their heads, and somehow now dealt with the fame without hexxing anyone in sight. Of course, there was an exception for their favorite Slytherin.

"Come back here, Potter!"

James snickered as him and Sirius stepped out of the boy's loo on the fourth floor. It was very entertaining to see Snivellus being attacked by a toilet bowl.

"I think his nose is still a little flat from that car door, don't you reckon?"

"Most definitely, Padfoot."

The other thing that was different with seventh year, was that James Potter had gotten a letter a week before school had started. Inside had been a badge with letters that read, "Head Boy" on it. He couldn't believe it. Out of everyone in seventh year, he was picked to be Head Boy?

He had invited Sirius over for lunch one Sunday, and had shown him the badge. Sirius had almost choked on his tea.

"What the hell is that?" he said, snatching it from him and examining it, "This is a joke, right? James Potter, Head Boy?"

Remus hadn't believed it either. He had responded to James's letter with a short owl that read:

_You're not fooling me this time. _

Peter, on the other hand, announced that he knew all along that it would be James.

He had wondered the entire week who had been chosen as Head Girl, and he hadn't been a bit surprised when he was called to the front of the train, along with Remus the Prefect, to meet with his new partner in crime. Upon walking into the room, students that he had never seen before stared at him.

"You're in the wrong room, Potter," one of the sixth year prefects said, "This is for the prefects."

"I'm Head Boy," he pointed to his badge now dangling off of his Hogwarts robes, "I think I'm in the right place."

Remus gave a small laugh when he saw the faces on the rest of the students as they stared at James.  
"Hey, good job, James."

He turned around to face Lily Evans, standing in the corridor, waiting to get into the small compartment. On her robes was a shiny badge that read "Head Girl."

James smiled, and mussed his hair, "Thanks," he said, trying to stay calm. She had talked to him without an insult. Maybe things were changing for the better.

"And you, too," he said, "I mean, good job on being Head Girl. So, I guess we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, hey?"  
Lily smiled slightly, and then edged past him and Remus into the compartment, "Glad to see you haven't hexxed anyone yet."

***

Other than that, Professor Nanes had decided that she wasn't getting anything across to her class, and had resigned. The boys were very disappointed with an old man with a hump walked into the room the first day of school.

Hogwarts was the same, though. Nothing had touched it over the summer, even if the world around it was crumbling slowly. The walls still stood as strong as they had for a thousand years, and the students took comfort in knowing that as long as Albus Dumbledore was Headmaster, they would be safe from any dangers the Dark Mark would throw at them.

But there were still quarrels inside the school. Mostly concerning Snape. Snape had been looking down his nose every time he saw Remus in the corridors, or in class. Then he would acquire this look on his face of pure disgust and continue on his way.

"He does that again, and I'll give him one good on that ugly greasy head of his," Sirius barked after him as they passed in the hall.

"Just be quiet," Remus said, "He knows he's bothering you. Just don't pay any attention to him."

But this was like telling a dog not to bark, and Sirius took no heed of Remus's warning. James, on the other hand, was having a more difficult time trying to keep up with his studies and being Head Boy at the same time. He had even had to opt out of September's full moon adventure.

"What?" Remus exclaimed as James got into bed that night, "Are you serious? You're leaving us?"

"I have to," James said, "I have so much work to do. Not to mention that the Head Boy and Girl are supposed to meet and discuss plans for this year. The meeting's the same night as the full moon. I can't go this time."

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Peter said through a yawn.

"You know who you're turning into?" Sirius said, exasperated, "You're turning into him," he jutted a finger over at Remus, "What happened to you, Prongs?"

James shrugged, and felt his head touch his pillow, "Nothing. I just -"

"Oh, I know what this is about," Sirius smiled as he jumped into his own bed, "It's about a certain Head Girl that you want to see, isn't it?"

"Getting beat out by a girl again," Remus shook his head, "Oh, James, we knew it would come."

"What are you two going on about?" James huffed, "I don't like Evans, if that's what you're implying. You saw how she yelled at me last year. She's just a girl."

"We're not implying anything. We're saying it out loud and clear. You're ditching us for a girl," Sirius said.

James blew out his candle, and the room was dark. It was a good thing, too, because he was turning bright red, and a smile was coming across his face.

***

"Well, I'll see you in a bit," Remus said, stepping out of the portrait hole. Madam Pomfrey was waiting outside in the corridor.

Sirius and Peter grimly looked to James, and then quietly made their way up to the dormitory room.

James shrugged it off, and shuffled his papers as he got ready to meet with Lily next to the fire.

A few minutes later, the dormitory door opened again, and shut itself. The common room was filled with students, trying to get the last bit of homework finished. Yet footsteps could be heard that didn't belong to any of the seated students, and then finally the portrait hole opened, and shut closed.

They were gone. James was alone.

"Hey," he looked up, and saw Lily standing there, holding her own papers in her arms. She casually took a seat on the armchair, and crossed her legs.

"How are you," James asked nonchalantly.

"Pretty well off, you?"

"I'm holding up," he said, and then was going to add something, but Lily plopped her papers on the table in front of them, and said quickly, "Well, I thought that we would start with the Halloween feast. There are a lot of arrangements to make. We need entertainment, and I thought that a band better than Davey Gudgeon's would be better for this year …"

"Hey, Evans?" James interrupted.

Lily looked at him, peeved. It seemed that she had spent all evening trying to figure this all out, and he wasn't even listening. She sighed, "What, James?"

"How do you do it?"

"How do I do what, James?" she asked.

James grinned, "Do it, you know? Being perfect every minute of the day. I've been trying, and I can't do it. You have a perfect gene or something?"

Lily raised her brow, "What?"

"Okay, so that was stupid," James sighed, "Look, Evans, we've known each other for like --- what, seven years now? --- and every time that I try to ask you --- something happens. Well, I guess that isn't true, because I did ask you … but I remember something about you pushing it back in my face."

"Ask me what," Lily was very confused by now, and she was fidgetting with the hem of her robe sleeve.

"Well," James took a deep breath in, and then mussed his hair, "Hogsmeade is coming up in October, and I was just wondering if you may be interested in . I don't know . going with me to the Three Broomsticks for a nice drink of butterbeer?"

Lily's shoulders sagged, and then she looked back at the papers on the table, "James, I -"

"If you're going to reject me again, just … just don't say anything," James cut her off, "Please. I don't think I can take another one ---"  
"James ---" Lily started again, "It's not you, it's ---" but James waved his hand, and grabbed his papers.

"I knew it was stupid," he said, "Who would have ever thought that Little Miss Perfect would ever fall for me? Well, it just goes to show that I am a stupid egotistical git, huh?"

"James."

"What?"

Lily gave a small, hesitant smile, and said, "It would be great to go with you."

James blinked, and stared at her, "What did you say?"

"I said I'll go," Lily said.

"I know what you said, but why did you say it?" James said, "You --- you haven't ever --- who are you and what have you done with Lily Evans?"

Lily laughed, and then crossed her arms, "The same could be said about you. I suppose we're both just … growing up perhaps."

***

"Oh, so now you don't only ditch us on the night of the full moon, but at Hogsmeade too, huh?" Sirius barked as they walked to Potions, "And it isn't just any girl. No, it's not Elise. It's Morgana, Queen of the Underworld."

"Lily isn't that way," James argued, "She's really not that bad, actually."

"That's what you think," Sirius huffed, "Just wait until she sprouts fangs and claws."

"Hey!" Remus shouted from behind them.

"Sorry," Sirius said over his shoulder, "But Prongs, she's practically a she-devil! Have you ever seen her when she gets mad? Her eyes glow red, and her hair stands on end! And if you look closely, you can see her left eye twitch. Now what sort of stable person is that? She isn't human! She never gets a bad mark on her classwork! She's Head Girl! She's the most popular girl in school!" he paused, "Are you sure that someone didn't pay her to go out with you?"

"Padfoot -"

"No, I'm serious," Sirius said as they stepped into the Dungeons, "What if it's a bet? I can see it now: All of her giggly friends sitting around at night, betting on who they can get Lily to go out with. And one of them says, 'What about Potter?' And she fully despises you, mate. Admit it. And so they say that Lily couldn't last a week with you. She makes a bet with them, and she's out to get money. I bet you anything that's what it is."

"I am very thankful for your support, Padfoot," James huffed, and sat down in his seat, "Remind me to do the same honors for you when you get your next girlfriend."

"Well, my next girlfriend won't be Lily Evans," Sirius said, "And so it'll be a better pick than yours."

***

Hogsmeade weekend came slower than usual. James had been thinking about all of the things that he and Lily would talk about over lunch. Quidditch, music, school, the weather. He had made a list out in his mind of topics that he could switch to if he grew desperate.

Finally the day came, and he found himself trying to tame his hair in the mirror next to his bed. Sirius came up from behind him, and placed an object on his bed. James looked at it, and sighed.

"Sirius -"

It was one of a pair of mirrors that they had bewitched in second year. Snorks had caught them trying to boobey trap a step on the fourth staircase leading down to the Slytherin common room, and had put them in separate detentions. After that, they had enchanted two mirrors to work as a way of communication between the two of them.

"Come on, just in case you need some help," Sirius said, "I'm holding onto mine."

"I don't need help, Sirius," James shoved the mirror back at him, and Sirius looked darkly at him. He narrowed his eyes, and then said, "Whatever."

James, who was still taming his hair, heard Sirius walk back to his own dresser, open a drawer, throw the two mirrors into their proper place, and slam the drawer shut.

"Have a good time," he said testily as he walked to the door, and then slammed it behind him.

***

He was to meet Lily at the Three Broomsticks at twelve o' clock. He had gotten there early, to find a table and try to settle his nerves. He didn't feel hungry at all. In fact, he felt like he was going to throw his breakfast up. His knee nervously jumped up and down, and he was picking at a sliver on the table. What if they just started fighting again? What if it really was a bet, like Sirius had said?

He looked at his watch. 12:03. She was late.

What if it was a joke? What if she didn't show, and he was stuck waiting at that table for the entire day?

"You sure you don't want to order anything, James?" Madam Rosmerta asked him for the third time since he had arrived.

"I'm sure," James said, "I'm waiting for someone."

"A girl?"

"Yeah," James said glumly. Madam Rosmerta gave him a funny look, and went to the next table.

12:06. James was banging his head against the table. He was so stupid to think that Lily would actually show. He felt anger boil up inside of him. He was so stupid! His head hit the table. Thunk. Stupid! Thunk. Stupid! Thunk.

"You're gonna give yourself a concussion doing that."

James shot up, and looked at where the voice had come from. It was Lily Evans, dressed in a very nice dress. Her hair was down, and brushed to a shiny red. Her green eyes glittered in the candlelight of the pub. She was so beautiful.

"You're late," James said. He felt like a real idiot. She had seen him hitting his head on the table. How idiotic did he look now…

"Not really," she checked her watch, "Your watch must be fast. It's twelve right now."

James felt his hopes rise. So she wasn't planning on standing him up. Madam Rosmerta, seeing that his date had arrived, bustled over to the table, ready to take their order.

"So, you must be the lucky girl," she said to Lily. Lily smiled politely back, and then gave a quick glance to James, "What will it be, then?" Rosmerta asked them.

"Well, I think I'll take a butterbeer and the special," James said, handing her the menus.

"And for you?" Rosmerta looked at Lily.

"The same thing, I guess," Lily said, and then gave her her menu as well.

"Give it a few minutes," Rosmerta said, and then turned to James, "Oh, and by the way. Dung wanted to say hi. I bumped into him in town a few days ago. He looked sort of jittery, but I talked to him anyways. Just passing along the message."

"Thanks," James said, and then turned back to Lily. Lily had that confused look on her face again.

"You know the waitress?" she said quietly.

"She's not the waitress," James corrected her, "She owns this place. And me and the guys come in here a lot. She knows all of us."

Lily nodded, and then folded her hands, "Oh."

"So," James said, "Looking forward to the new Quidditch season?"

"I guess so," Lily said, "How about you?"

"I'm psyched about it," James said, "Can't wait to start playing. Professor McGonagall was talking to me, and she wants me to apply for Team Captain. Our first game is in November."

"Against who?" Lily said, slightly interested.

"Hufflepuff," James said, "And they're a pushover, really. Haven't had a good team since first year."

Lily seemed to be nodding off to sleep. She was not at all interested in this conversation. James sighed, mussed his hair, and checked off a topic off of his mental list. Next topic: school.

"So, how's school?" James asked, floundering.

Lily shrugged, "Same old, same old. Let's not talk about school. It's the weekend."

Another topic off of the list.

Next topic: Weather.

"It's pretty sunny out."

Lily gave out a laugh, and then leaned back in her chair, "You're trying too hard, Potter."

James stared at her, "What?"

"Conversation isn't that hard to make," Lily said, "Calm down. I'm not going to bite you."

James sighed, and mussed his hair, "I'm not so sure about that."

Lily laughed again. She had a beautiful laugh. A pure voice.

"Look, I'll show you," she said, "You have any brothers or sisters?"

"One," James was eyeing her. What was she up to?

"What's her name?"

"Wendy," James said, "And you? You have any sisters?"

"Yeah," Lily said, and her expression became saddened, "Petunia. We used to be close. When we were younger and all, but after she found out what I was … well, let's not say she was as open-minded as my parents."

James nodded, "Me and Wendy never really got to know each other. She's been out of the house for a while now. Ever since I was nine, at least."

Lily nodded, "That must be different. Growing up an only child."

"Well, not really," James said, "Sirius mostly hung out at our place for a while. He didn't have . I mean, he was always welcome."

Lily nodded again, and said, "You two seem to be pretty close."

"We are," James said, and then didn't add anything to the reply. Lily looked at him, as if studying him. He looked back.

"What?"

"Nothing," Lily said, "It's just that … I never thought that you would be like this."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you're not like anything I thought you were," she said, "I thought it was a definite mistake when they put you as Head Boy."

"Oh, well, thank you for the honesty," James muttered.

"No, really," Lily said, "You just always came off as a … well, you know …"

"An arrogant git?"

"To put it nicely, yes," she looked down at her hands, "I was thinking about not showing today."

James's eyes flared. So it had been true! She was thinking about leaving him high and dry, alone with only Madam Rosmerta to take pity on him!

"But I'm glad I did," she said, and her green eyes flickered up to look at him. They were like emeralds, and had a life of their own. Her skin was so pale, so fair. His heart fluttered.

"Really?" he choked.

"Yeah," she said, her lip curling into a small grin, "I am."

"Here are the drinks," Madam Rosmerta appeared at James's side, and set two butterbeers on the table, "The food will be ready in a minute."

"Thanks," Lily said quietly, and James muttered a thanks as well. Lily took a swig of her drink, and then went back to talking, "So," she continued, "What do you want to do after we get done eating?"

"You want to do something else?" James said. He hadn't brought a lot of money. It had to be cheap. He was paying for lunch, after all. Or maybe Lily should take her pretty little purse and open it and pay for it if she wanted to go spend more time that he could be spending with Sirius and Remus and Peter.

"Yeah," Lily said, "My friend Elise says that the Shrieking Shack is pretty scary. Want to go check it out?"

James gulped, "The … the Shrieking Shack?"

"Oh, now don't tell me that you're scared of all those rumours," Lily chortled.

"I'm not scared," James said, his heart racing, "I … I just don't know why we have to go there when there's so much else to do. Zonko's and Honeydukes are only a few stores away ."

"I've been there millions of times," Lily said, "Come on. Don't you want some adventure?"

James took a swig of his butterbeer. Oh, if only she knew how many times he had been to the Shack. And how many "adventures" he had had.

***

"They say it's the most haunted place in England," Lily informed him as they climbed the hill to the Shack, "The villagers say that on some nights, you can hear the screaming of the violent spirits. The door creaks open, and there are voices. Not to mention the rattling windows. They cause a ruckus in there."

"Yeah," James mumbled, trying not to make eye contact with her.

"And if you listen, there's this long piercing howl," she said, pointing to a window. It was boarded up with decaying wood, "From that room right there."

"The lavoratory?" James said skeptically.

Lily frowned, "No, that's supposed to be the bedroom in which Lady Harring was killed by her rich husband."

"No, it's a toilet seat," James argued.

"And how would you know, James Potter?" she said, looking back at him. He shrugged.

"I have my ways."

"I bet you anything that it's Lady Harring's bedroom," Lily said, "And you can still see the blood marks on the wall, behind the bed."

"Or behind the shower curtain, whichever one," James grinned, "Lily, it's a loo."

Lily got a determined look on her face, and then brushed past him and headed towards the old door.

"And may I ask what you're doing," he said, following her.

"I'm going to find out," Lily said, and turned the handle.

James was in awe. He watched the Head Girl step into the Shack and into the darkness.

"Seriously, what have you done with Lily Evans?" he asked as he followed her into the living room.

It looked like it always had. Torn up furniture. Scratched and bloody walls. Worn stairs. Only a little bit of sunlight dodging through the boards of the windows. He sighed, and then gave out a snort when he saw Lily's look of horror.

"Come on now, you aren't scared, are you?" he mused, and walked towards the staircase.

"Of course not," she followed him up the stairs, and to the second floor. Just as it had been last June. Nothing ever changed here in the Shack. But still, Lily was in awe of every single detail.

"They must be very violent," she commented as they walked down the corridor, "Look at these claw marks."

She touched one of Remus's signatures on the wall. It had dug through the torn wallpaper, and into the second layer of interior. Dried, maroon blood was splattered above the mark. James shuddered.

"Yeah," was all he was able to say. Lily's pale fingers looked so angelic next to the evil scar of the wall. He swallowed.

"Come on," she said, and then counting the windows from the right corner, made her way to a closed door that led to the toilet.

"Now this should be the bedroom," she said, "And I'll be nice enough not to say 'I told you so.'"

She opened the door, and her face dropped when she saw the shower curtain. She shut the door quickly, and then looked testily at James.

"I told you so," he said.

"How did you know it was a bathroom?" she demanded.

He shrugged again, "I have my ways," he repeated.

SLAM.

"Can you believe him?"

James and Lily turned around quickly. There were voices coming from downstairs. Someone had entered either from the trap door or the front door. The voice sounded familiar.

James groaned.

"Come on, Padfoot. We knew that it was bound to happen."

Lily looked at James, and it was at this time that he saw her eye. He felt his throat go dry. Sirius was right. It did twitch!

"Well, I don't blame him. She is very attractive …"

"Oh, shut your mouth, Wormtail," Sirius's voice came, "This is the second time that he's left us for her."

"I'm hearing some jealousy in your tone, Padfoot," Remus said.

The three of them were down in the living room. What were they doing here? James was frozen on the spot. Lily was suspicious. She was still staring at him. Her hair seemed to become a little wilder. Her eye was twitching faster.

"I have no idea what they're doing here," James whispered.

"Did you hear that?" Peter's voice came.

James froze, and Lily, with a defiant look on her face, pushed past him and back down the stairs.

James quickly hurried after her. This was not going to be good.

Sure enough, as they reached the bottom of the staircase, they came face to face with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, huddled together and looking around for the origins of the whisper.

Sirius's eyes shot to the appeared couple at the foot of the stairs, and his mouth dropped.

"Padfoot, it isn't what it looks like," James said.

Sirius grew darker, and he glared at James, "Oh, you have done it this time. Oh, have you done it this time."

"What are you three doing in here?" Lily was staring at Remus for an explanation.

"We could ask the same of you," Remus retorted.

"Yeah," Peter interjected.

"Sirius, it was her idea to come in," James explained, "We weren't ."

His eyes were hollow, "So you think that on the first date you can show her our old place? You think you have that right, hey, James?"

"Your 'old place?'" Lily turned on James now, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

James looked to Lily, and then to Sirius, "Sirius, really. Don't be so stupid. I didn't tell her anything."

"Tell me what!" she shouted.

"Keep your voice down," Remus said, "The walls are thin."

Lily looked to Remus, and then crossed her arms, "And I would have thought better of you, Remus Lupin. You are a prefect."

"And you're Head Girl," he argued.

"Oh, why don't we just tell her everything now?" Sirius barked, "Now that's she's here and all! Go ahead, James. Tell Morgana all about it!"

"What did you call me?" Lily shouted.

"All right, everyone just calm down," Remus said, "Sirius, stop. Lily, please just . just sit down."

"What?" James gawked at Remus, "What are you doing?"

"We barely know her!" Peter squeaked.

Lily gave a look to Peter, and Peter became silent.

"Go ahead, Lupin," Sirius snarled, "Tell her all about it."

Lily, having that defiant look about her again, sat down on the couch, and Remus sat across from her on the edge of the table. He took one more look at Sirius and James and Peter, and then said, "We always come up here during our Hogsmeade visits."

James and Sirius looked at each other.

"Why?" Lily demanded.

"Well," Remus continued, "We think it's funny to stir up the spirits for the villagers. You know, give them a show. We've been spending time up here making noise since third year. You know, banging on the walls. Howling. Screaming. Doing our duty as violent ghosts."  
Lily's face dropped, and then she looked at Sirius, "That's it?"

Sirius, who was at loss for words, quickly nodded. James followed his example, and Lily seemed satisfied for the moment. She stood up, and then looked at James, "Well, if we're done with the dramatics, I would like to go back to school."

Remus's shoulders relaxed as James, stunned, walked her out of the house. He gave one more glance to Sirius, who was fuming by the door.

Outside, Lily was very quiet. She didn't say a word the entire way back to the village's main road. It wasn't until they were walking out of Hogsmeade and back to Hogwarts that she opened her mouth.

"I know there's something else that you four have been up to," she said, "I don't know what it is, but there's something that you don't want me to know about."

"I ---"

"Don't try to help your case," Lily interrupted him, "I'm going to find out, though."

It was more of a fact than a statement. And James didn't doubt for one moment that she someday would. She wasn't stupid.

James walked her to the girl's dormitory entrance, and then turned back towards the boys' side of the tower.

"Hey, wait a minute."

He turned back around toward Lily. She was still very beautiful. He mussed his hair.

"What?"

She smiled, "You want to go out again sometime?"

He was stunned. She wanted to still see him? After the Shrieking Shack, she was still going to go out with him? It was a miracle!

"Yeah," he said dumbly, "Sure. When?"

"I don't know," Lily said, "How about to the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw? It's in two weeks. After your first game."

"Sure," James said, and then he turned back towards his room. He was walking on clouds as he opened the door.

Lily Evans had asked him out.

***

Lily Evans had asked him out.

The hallway seemed a bit longer as he stood there, staring down the way to where two Gryffindors sat on the ledge in complete contentment. And she was smiling. She was happy ---

And he was touching her. Black mussed hair, thick stupid glasses, lanky arms and pasty hands touching her beautiful, wonderful skin. Her green eyes looking to that … git …

"Severus?"

Severus turned away from the sight. Staring blood at Lucius.

"She --- she --- how could she?"

"She's a filthy little creature, Severus," Lucius said, "Now --- what are you doing! Snape!"

Snape was rushing forward, his throat stinging with vomit, his stomach churning, his hands numb. Lucius grappled him and threw him from his path. Neither Lily nor James saw them only a throw away.

"What are you doing."

"If I --- I can change this ---"

"Pull yourself together! For God's sake, Snape!" Lucius pressed him from the girl, and Snape grew weak. A sniveling, pathetic whelp ---

"Really! If he could see you now, like this over a ---"

"I told you not to call her that. Ever again."

"She ---" and a great red slice of blood went across Lucius's cheek. Lucius, a dainty hand pressed to the red, grew quite grave with his friend, "Now you do that ever again and I shall do much more than some elementary spell I made when I was bored in Potions."

And Lily gave out a laugh. She laughed. Her eyes were not looking to him, bent over in utter grief, but him. That damned little --- piece of --- she was looking at him like ---

Once, once when they were young, they sat under trees and she laughed. She touched his hand and kissed him on the cheek. She said she wouldn't let anyone in the world hurt him --- she knew him.

And now they were strangers.

Lucius held out his wand, "Now are we to do it or not?"

Severus snatched Lucius's wand from his thin white hand and held it murderously in his own grip, "I'll figure out the details before tomorrow morning."

"That's my friend," Lucius clapped him on the back, and Snape, furious tears in his eyes, tore from the corridor.

And it was then Severus decided something quite important: James Potter would die. And he would be the one to do the deed.


	41. Chapter 40: Blood Traitor

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note about Animagi: I went researching everywhere, and there is NOTHING written anywhere in the books on the rules of Animagi, how to become an Animagus, etc. So I came to the conclusion on three things: One: It is a set of very complex spells to become an Animagus. But it must only be the first time, because Sirius does it with ease in and out of the books. Two: Also, they did NOT speak telepathically. They turn into animals, and therefore there would be no other magic. Yes, now Wormtail can talk to rats, because as a rat he speaks rat language. And Sirius can talk to Crookshanks in the third book, because they're both a "domesticated" animal. Also, it doesn't say that he can talk to Crookshanks, persay, but he relays messages to him. It takes him a while to get it through to the Kneazle what he needs from Gryffindor Tower. Three: The form chose the wizard. I mean, just look at the characters. Do you think that James would have picked to be a deer? But it fits his character perfectly. Strong, in charge, graceful, mysterious, loyal, etc. And Sirius is described as having doglike behavior whenever he's in human form. And do we really have to go into the similarities of Peter and a rat. (evil Scabbers). It was these three rules that I gave myself. I don't know if they're true or not, but they're working out for the fanfic, so I have no complaints. What are your opinions on this subject?)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: Again, the end of this chapter is somewhat disturbing. If you don't like horror, mild violence, etc., please don't read this. I'm warning you now. Remember, my rating's PG-13.)  
  
(Note from the author: Chapter 40! Celebration!)  
  
The rest of the semester went very nicely for the four friends. They were expecting on spending their entire Christmas weekend at Sirius's flat, and other than the mounds of homework that they were receiving from their teachers (N.E.W.T.'s were approaching), their lives were going well.  
James and Lily had gone to the Quidditch game together, and had rooted the loudest for Ravenclaw, and had booed the most annoyingly for Slytherin. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were seated three seats behind them, and Sirius spent the entire game glaring at Lily's backside.  
"I don't get it," Sirius said, "He's not James anymore! Whatever happened to Prongs?"  
"He grew up," Remus said simply, popping some popcorn kernels into his mouth.  
Sirius's glare grew darker, and he slumped down in his seat, arms crossed.  
"She's evil, I tell you," he said.  
"Oh, yes, she looks very frightening," Remus laughed, "I know those pink bracelets are menacing."  
Sirius sank lower, "Stupid git. Getting himself that involved with a girl. He should have known better."  
"Are you going to watch the game, or pout the entire time?" Remus said, "I took up my study time to come here with you guys, and all you can do is sit there staring at them."  
"I'm not doing anything," Peter retorted.  
"He wasn't talking to you, was he?" Sirius barked.  
Peter recoiled into his seat, and returned to watching the game.  
"Now you can't truthfully say that you don't miss the old James, Moony," Sirius said, "It's just not the same."  
"I'm happy for him," Remus said, "They really are a nice couple."  
  
"Oh, shut up," he growled, and then watched James cautiously put his arm around Lily's seat. It was enough to make him puke.  
  
James's own Quidditch career was going exceptionally well. He had become Team Captain (to no one's surprise), and had taken the spot of Seeker. They had won almost every single game after the record-breaking catch years ago. And ever since then, he had retired his Chaser days, and had taken on his new position with pride. Dennis had graduated, and he had been working as a Reserve Chaser for the Ballycastle Bats for a year. As for Bertha Jorkins, she had gone on to work in the Ministry of Magic. Graham had also left, and had disappeared from out of sight. There was a rumor going around that he had joined the Death Eaters, but there was no proof to back the theory up.  
  
After the first Quidditch game, James entered the tent with the rest of the team. He had won it for them, and now everyone was congratulating him on a job well done. Sirius was waiting for him at his satchel of clothes to change into. He was leaning up against the side of the tent, his arms crossed, and a worried look on his face.  
  
"Hey, Padfoot," James said, taking a towel and wiping his face of sweat, "enjoy the game?"  
  
"Yeah, it was great. Listen," Sirius said, rushed, and standing up straight, "Morgana's waiting outside the tent. She's getting ready to ambush you. If we go out the way you came in, and cut across the Quidditch field, I think we can make it without being spotted," he grabbed James's satchel, and then took a hold of his robe sleeve. He then started to drag him back to the entrance, "But we have to go now . . ."  
  
"What are you doing?" James tugged away from him, and grabbed his satchel, "I'm not going to avoid her."  
  
Sirius looked back at him, his mouth in a firm line. But he didn't say anything.  
  
"Look, Padfoot," he sighed, and mussed his hair, "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I think she's the one. She's . . . she's not like the other girls that I've dated. She actually cares about who I am. She's smart, and funny, and . . ."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius muttered, "Perfect in every way, right?"  
James hesitated, and then nodded, "Yes, she is. And I wish that you'd be happy for me."  
Sirius didn't get a chance to respond, because Lily stepped into the tent, her hand over her eyes.  
"Everyone decent?" she said.  
James gave one more look to Sirius, and then turned to face Lily, "Yeah," he said, "Everyone else is gone. Just me and Sirius."  
Lily uncovered her eyes, and then smiled that glowing smile at James, "You ready to go?"  
"Go where?" Sirius interrogated.  
"We're going for a walk, Mother," James said, "Don't worry. I'll be back by nine."  
"Funny, very funny," Sirius snarled from behind him.  
"Nice to see you again, Sirius," Lily waved to him as her and James disappeared from sight. Sirius was left alone in the tent. He put his hands in his pockets, and kicked at the dirt underneath his feet.  
"Figures," Sirius mumbled to himself, and then walked out of the tent in the other direction.  
  
"I was thinking about you last night," Lily said as they sat underneath the beech tree near the lake. They had decided to skip their walk and just spend some time together before heading back to the dorms.  
"Really?" James said, sort of taken aback.  
"Yeah," Lily pressed her skirt flat on her lap, and then looked out at the lake, "I was wondering where exactly this was going. I mean, this is our fifth outing in two weeks, and I haven't ever really been in a relationship like this before."  
"Well, neither have I," James said.  
Lily smiled, "Well, James . . . what if this really turns into something? I don't know if I'm ready for that sort of thing. I mean, I've never really taken any of my relationships seriously. You know? And I don't really know what to make of all this."  
"Why do you always have to analyze things?" James said, laying back, "Why can't you just let things happen?"  
"What?"  
"Not everything's planned out, Lily," James continued, "I mean, let's just see where it leads us to. An adventure."  
Lily's smile widened, and she looked back at the water, "You know what, James Potter? If I had known what you had been like six years ago, I would have asked you out the first day of school."  
James laughed, "That's not exactly what you did."  
"I know," she said, "And I apologized. But you were a bit of an arrogant git."  
"To put it nicely," he mocked her, and then sat up again, "And you were right."  
"What?"  
"You were right," he said, "I was sort of . . . arrogant."  
Lily took her gaze off of the water, and then looked at him. He mussed his hair, and she laughed again. He loved it when she laughed.  
"Why do you always do that?" she asked.  
"Do what?"  
"You know, mess with your hair like that? It drives me crazy," she said, and James mussed it again.  
"I don't know. Bad habit, I suppose," he said.  
"It's funny how you can know someone for so long, but not even really . . ."  
"Know them?" James finished.  
"Yeah," Lily nodded, deep in thought, "Exactly."  
  
"What exactly are we doing?" Peter said, trying to keep up with his friend as they trekked across the grounds.  
"We're going to have a little fun with our good friend 'L'Amour,'" Sirius said. His sly grin was again visible, and his hollowed eyes had a small glint to them.  
"Le -what? Wait a minute! Shouldn't we tell Remus what we're doing?" Peter asked.  
"Nah," Sirius was walking at a top speed past the students and to the lake where the beech tree stood. Underneath the beech tree, he could make out the shadows of a couple, happily growing closer and closer together.  
Sirius ducked behind a bush, and pulled Peter with an "oof!" down with him.  
"Just look at them," Sirius growled, "They're just sick."  
"Oh, I dunno," Peter said, "I think it's sort of sweet."  
"It's disgusting," Sirius muttered.  
"Did you get me so we could spy on them?" Peter asked.  
"No," Sirius said, "I've got something better planned."  
"Now, Sirius," Peter said, staring at the couple, "Let's . . . let's try to be reasonable . . . we wouldn't want him doing this to us . . . "  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sirius said, and he took out the Invisibility Cloak out of his robes.  
  
"So, James," Lily said, "You know about the Graduation Dance?"  
"Yeah," James said. He knew what was coming. She was going to say, "You want to have a dance," and he would say, "Of course," and then there would be a long pause of silence.  
"Well, we're going to have to plan it," Lily said, "We are Head Boy and Head Girl. They're counting on us."  
"Will you go with me?" he said, seeing that Lily wasn't going to ask him.  
Lily, who must have been expecting it, smiled her largest smile yet, and hugged him. James jumped as her arms embraced him, and he awkwardly patted her on the back.  
"I'll take that as a yes?" he said.  
"Of course I'll go," she said, and let him go. He patted his robes down, and then mussed his hair.  
"Well, good," he said, "Now that that's out of the way . . ."  
He stopped. He had heard something. He looked over his shoulder, but nothing was there. The closest person to them was on the other side of the lake . . .  
"What?" Lily said.  
"I heard a groan," he said, turning back around to her.  
"A groan?" she repeated.  
He felt something touch his shoulder, and he swiveled around again. But nothing.  
"What the hell . . ."  
"What is it?" Lily asked, getting to her knees, "Is it a bug?"  
"No," James said, scanning the hill, "Bugs don't groan."  
"Are you sure it was a groan?"  
"I'm sure," he stood up, and then felt invisible hands push him back down. Lily stared at him as he fell in a heap on the ground.  
"Are you all right?" she said, looking worried.  
"Yeah," James touched his shoulders, where the hands had been . . . but that was crazy . . . there couldn't be any hands . . . unless . . .  
"Sirius," he growled, and reached his hands out to grab the Cloak. No such luck.  
He fell on his face in the grass, and Lily got to her feet, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"  
"It's Sirius," he said tersely, getting to his feet, "He's got my Invisibility Cloak."  
Lily's face turned red, "How long has he been here?"  
"I don't know," James looked into the thin air, and glared, "Sirius Black! Give me the Cloak, now!"  
"What are you yelling about, Prongs?"  
James turned around to come face to face with Sirius. He was smiling, casually hands in his pockets. Lily stepped back as James walked to him.  
"You . . . give me the Cloak, now!" he said, "Oof!"  
Something had pushed him from behind, and he went falling on the ground again.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sirius grinned.  
"Argh!" James grabbed the pair of invisible legs behind him, and there was a "whoa!" that sounded out of no where. All of a sudden, the torso of Peter Pettigrew appeared two feet above the ground. Lily screamed, and then James tugged the rest of the Cloak off. Peter was shivering with nerves, and looking fearfully at James.  
"Ah, Wormtail," Sirius said, "So nice of you to join us."  
James was about to say something very snide to Sirius, but before he could, a hand whipped him around. It belonged to Remus.  
"What? We have the whole gang here on my date now?" he shouted.  
Remus didn't answer. He looked sullen, and he held a note in his hand.  
"What? What happened?" James said, his anger disappearing.  
"I am so sorry," he said quietly.  
"Sorry for what?" he said, coming closer. Sirius had stopped laughing, and was looking at his two friends in fear. Had it finally happened?  
"Professor McGonagall wants to talk to you," was all Remus said, and then led him back to the school.  
  
Sirius and Peter were waiting in the common room, when James arrived, with Remus beside him. Lily had also been waiting with the two boys, and stood as soon as she saw James's face.  
"What happened?" she asked.  
James took a breath, and then looked at Sirius, "My sister. Wendy. She's . . . she's dead."  
Lily fell back into her seat, as if her legs had collapsed underneath her. Sirius was frozen, like a statue, next to Peter where he had been sitting.  
"How did it happen?" Sirius asked quietly.  
James let his gaze trail off to the fireplace, and then he said very slowly, "The Dark Mark was found over her home in Jerusalem. And on her front door, they wrote the word 'Blood traitor,'" he looked back at Sirius, and then said, "It happened. It finally happened."  
"James, I -"  
"Now do you understand?" he said quietly, and then made his way up the staircase, and to bed.  
Remus sat down in the empty chair across from Lily, and then sighed, "It's started, guys."  
"No," Sirius said, looking back at where James had escaped to, "It started a long time ago." 


	42. Chapter 41: The New Marauder

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Apology from the author: Hey, guys. I changed my bio. Sorry for sounding like . . . in Lily's words, "an egotrip on a broomstick." I was just trying to make it sound formal. Apologies to everyone. I've changed it. ): )  
  
(A Disclaimer: Ballycastle Bats, the Bat mascot, and "I'm batty for Butterbeer" is not mine. It belongs to J. K. Rowling. See Quidditch Through the Ages for more information.)  
  
(And finally, a thanks from the author: Okay, I've said it a lot, and I've probably said it too much, but thank you so much for replying! I read every single one of your guys's messages, and I enjoy every one of them!)  
  
James left that next morning. He didn't say goodbye to any of his friends. He walked right past Lily as they crossed paths in the common room. He was dressed in a black suit, and carrying his trunk.  
Sirius woke next to James's empty bed. He had had a nightmare about Dark Marks chasing him through a dark tunnel. The skulls of the Marks had been replaced with his mother's head, and she was screeching at him.  
The tunnel ended with a trap door, and he climbed through the hole, and there was the werewolf . . .  
He yawned, and scratched his head. His untidy hair fell into its messy place, and he sat up. Remus was getting dressed on the other side of the room. He was pulling his cloak on, and then started on his shoes.  
"Did he say goodbye to you?" Sirius said.  
Remus glanced up at him, and then went back to pulling on his socks. He was tired himself, Sirius could tell. None of them had truly slept that soundly last night.  
"Not a word," he replied, "And who can blame him. I know that if something like that happened to me, I would be worse than him."  
Sirius stood, and then crossed over to his trunk, rubbing his eyes. Peter was still asleep. He was twisting and turning in his bed, whimpering. It seemed that all of them were having a rough time.  
Sirius had never thought it would have really come. The day that one of them were effected directly. He had always decided that it was like a bad horror story. He had never seen Voldemort. What if it was just another fairy tale?  
A fairy tale that killed real people.  
"You don't look too good," Remus said, putting his left shoe on, "Are you holding up?"  
"Yeah," Sirius said, and opened his trunk, "It wasn't my sister, was it?"  
  
Lily sat with them for breakfast that morning. Sirius hadn't objected, to Remus's surprise. She was as sullen as the rest of them, and only ate a little of her toast.  
"I don't know what I'd do if my sister died," she said out loud to no one in particular.  
Remus nodded, and Sirius went to looking at his pumpkin juice goblet. He seemed to be very interested in it.  
There was a pause of silence, before Lily said, "He is lucky to have friends like you three. He never stops talking about you."  
Sirius looked at her, his brow furrowed. Was she serious?  
"Well, all we ever hear out of his mouth anymore has something to do with you," he said darkly, and then looked back at his pumpkin juice.  
Remus thought that he saw Lily blush.  
"Hey! Your friend's next, Moony!"  
Remus looked up, thinking that he would see James talking to him. But instead, behind Lily, and flanked by six greasy looking Slytherins, was Snivellus. On his left shoulder stood Narcissa and Regulus.  
Snape was smiling at Moony evilly. Had he told his friends? Had he told all of them what he was? No, he wouldn't be that stupid. As long as Sirius was there, he wouldn't dare.  
"Blood traitor, Moony. James is next, you freak," he said again snidely.  
In a minute, both he and Sirius were on their feet, wands pointed at Snape's nostrils. His group of friends all took their wands out and pointed them back at the two boys.  
"Go ahead, try it," Snape sneered.  
Sirius seemed ready to try it, but Remus nudged him, and shook his head, "He isn't worth it," he said, and then took his seat again. Snape's expression of pure jest faded in an instant, and he glared.  
"That's right, Padfoot. You can't protect your little possy from the Dark Lord," he said.  
Sirius tapped his fingers on the table, trying not to lose his temper. He couldn't look at Snape. If he did, he would lose it. He would flat out kill him.  
"How about you go back to your own table, Snivellus?" Lily stood, and the group backed up in surprise.  
"Ah, it's the Mudblood," Nott said, from behind Snape, "Hex her, Malfoy."  
But before the blonde haired seventh year could reach his wand, Lily had her wand in hand, and pointed it at Snivellus.  
"Confundo!"  
A jet of light shot out of her wand, and hit Snape square between the eyes. He doubled back, into the arms of two Slytherins namd Crabbe and Goyle, and his eyes grew big. His mouth drooped open, and he gazed around at the room, muttering something.  
At once, Nott raised his wand and shouted, "Conjuntiva!"  
There was another burst of light, and Lily fell on the table, holding her eyes. Nott was sneering.  
But Lily, her eyes irritated, blindly pointed her wand in the direction of Narcissa and Regulus, "Avis!"  
Out of the end of her wand came a flock of tiny canarylike birds. They flew to the two, and started pecking them viciously.  
"You little priss!" Narcissa screeched. Sirius could have sworn it was his own mother's voice.  
Lily blinked. The blinding spell was wearing off. It hadn't been that strong of a delivery. She saw the birds, and started to laugh.  
Remus, Sirius, and Peter all stared at the scene with pure astonishment.  
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"  
  
The entire crowd turned to look at a very furious Professor McGonagall, marching from her spot at the High Table and down to them. Right behind her was an equally as mad Professor Hall.  
"Does she just tail us or something?" Sirius hissed to Remus, "Does she just watch us until we place a toe out of line?"  
Lily, trying to hide her wand behind her back, sat back down, her face as red as her hair. Professor McGonagall, who seemed to have smoke billowing out of her head, grabbed Sirius and Remus by their ears. They winced, and stood.  
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT FIGHTING!" she shouted, "THE HEADMASTER WARNED YOU, MR. BLACK!"  
Crabbe, Goyle, and Snape had disappeared from sight. The rest of the Slytherin gang was being rung out equally as bad by Professor Hall. Narcissa and Regulus were still trying to fight off the birds.  
"He didn't do anything, Professor!"  
"For once in your life, be quiet, Mr. Pettigrew!" she snapped, and then started on the other two boys again.  
"It was Lily!" Peter squealed, and Lily nodded weakly. Sirius, who felt like his ear was going to be ripped off of his head, broke free, and looked disdainfully at Professor McGonagall. She then let go of Remus, and turned her glare to Lily.  
"Lily Evans!" she scolded, "Head Girl! Top in your class! You think that you would know a little better! Fifty points from Gryffindor! I have never been more ashamed of a student! I would have thought more from you!"  
And then she practically threw Sirius and Remus back into their seats, and went to help Professor Hall reprimand the Slytherins.  
Sirius had never seen Professor McGonagall so angry before. He was in awe as he stared from her, to the canary birds, and then back to Lily.  
Lily looked like she was on the verge of tears. She had her head in her arms, and was trying not to let her face be seen.  
"Fifty points!" she said through her arms. It was muffled, "Fifty points! Oh, I should have known better!"  
"What just happened here?" Remus said, aside to Sirius. Sirius shrugged, and then continued to stare at Lily.  
  
"Hey! Wait up!"  
Lily, who was trying to dry her face of tears, continued walking down the hall.  
"Evans! Slow down!"  
Lily looked back, and saw Sirius Black gaining on her. She continued walking.  
Sirius frowned, and ran through the crowded corridor to catch up with her.  
"If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were trying to avoid me," he said sourly as he started walking in step with her. She turned away, trying to hide her face.  
"What?" she said through her red hair, "What do you want?"  
"Just wanted to ask what you did to Snivelly," he said, "Thought the hex would come in handy some time."  
"It's not a hex, it's a charm," she corrected him, "A Confundus charm. It confuses the victim."  
"Ah," Sirius said, and then continued to walk with her, "Where'd you learn to duel like that?"  
"There's a lot of things that you don't know about me," she replied simply.  
"Well, after that little scene in there, I've realized that," he said. They walked into the Transfiguration room, where Professor McGonagall gave them both a very evil glare.  
Lily didn't say anything as she sat down in her seat, still trying to wipe her face free of tears. Sirius sat in his regular seat, the chair next to him empty. He wondered when James would be getting back.  
  
James wanted to leave. He felt sick. He wanted to just drop through the floor, and disappear.  
He had seen Wendy during the open casket. She was untouched by anything, except for her eyes. They were open wide, in a look of horror. Her husband had been killed as well, and his expression was the same. It had been the Avada Kedavera curse. He knew it had been.  
They had attended the funeral, and he had sat there, listening to the wonderful things that his sister had accomplished in her life. Loving wife, loving daughter, loving sister.  
Half of it passed through one ear and exited through the other. He was thinking about something else. A memory that he hadn't recalled for a long time.  
He was four, and Wendy was twelve. They were home alone with Sprite one summer night, while their parents went out on a romantic dinner date. Sprite had put them to bed early, on his mother's orders. It was dark in his room, and he couldn't remember him being more scared in his entire childhood. His friend from down the street, Kenny McClellan, had told him that there were dementors that fed off of little children. They hid in the dark of their rooms, and then, after they were put to bed, they came and gave them a kiss.  
It seemed so stupid now . . . to be scared of fictional dementors hiding in the corners of his room. But then, he felt like he was going to choke in the blackness that surounded him. Sprite had drifted off to sleep downstairs, while folding some clothes. Wendy had heard his crying, and soon enough, there she was in his doorway, the light seeping from behind her from the corridor. James had stopped crying, and his big sister had walked farther into the room, unafraid of the dark.  
"What's the matter, James?" she had asked.  
James had told her about Kenny's ghost story, and she laughed, "Don't tell me that you believe dementors are in here?"  
James had nodded.  
Wendy sat on the edge of his bed, and then said, "Well, how about we make up our own story? About the dark? It can just be our story. We won't tell anyone about it. I'll start, and then you can make some of it up, and then I'll continue, and on and on. Okay?"  
James had nodded again, and had set his head on Wendy's lap. Wendy stroked his hair as she began to speak, "Once upon a time, there was a little boy that was scared of his dark room. He couldn't go to sleep, because he was thinking that he heard something in the corner. There had been a thump over there," she pointed to the corner next to the window, "And it was a scary noise. Now it's your turn."  
"Then the noise was louder," James said quietly.  
"Good job, James," Wendy said, and then continued, "And the little boy jumped up from his bed, and demanded to know who was there."  
"Who was it?" he asked in awe.  
"Who do you think it was?" she looked to him. James had never been asked such an important question before.  
"A dementor?"  
"No," she smiled, and tickled his stomach. He giggled, "It was a Klipoorak."  
"A what?" he asked.  
"A Klipoorak," she repeated, "He had big eyes, that glowed blue. And . . . and what did his nose look like?"  
"It was green," James said.  
"All right, it was green," she said, "And he had fur. It changed all the colors of the rainbow."  
James laughed, and Wendy smiled, "That's what a Klipoorak looks like."  
"I think I see him now!" James said, peering into the corner.  
"And Klipooraks bring good luck," Wendy added, "He's watching to make sure nothing comes to hurt you."  
"Like dementors?"  
"Yeah, like dementors."  
James smiled now. It was one of the few memories that he had left of Wendy. Most of the rest of the time, she was detached from the family. She had her schooling, and then her friends over holiday.  
It was a memory that he would always hold onto.  
  
The reception afterwards was bittersweet. He found a chair next to the refreshments table, and sat there, scoping out the scene. He didn't feel comfortable in his clothes. They were too scratchy. He knew they would be thrown in the back of his closet after today, never to be worn again.  
Mrs. Potter was hysterical. She was being comforted by some other women that had attended the funeral. He had never seen them before.  
Sprite was bawling in the corner, wiping her nose on her red mitten. She was telling a story to another house elf that someone had brought about how Wendy always loved her eggs over easy, and not scrambled.  
The house elf looked very confused.  
He toyed with his cuff. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to hear anything more about Wendy. She wasn't dead. She was going to come walking into the room at any moment, and she would be all right.  
He wiped his eye with his sleeve, and then looked straight ahead. He wasn't going to cry. He wouldn't let himself cry in front of all these people.  
"It's getting worse, Potter."  
James looked to a corner on the other side of the room. His father was speaking with a man that he had never seen before. Mr. Potter's companion had dark hair that covered his face. But James could make out a large eye, swiveling in every direction. It was unnerving. It was darting around at the rest of the guests, making sure no one was listening.  
"I will be your Secret Keeper if you would like to go ."  
"No," Mr. Potter said, "We're staying as a family. Until the end, we're staying. I'm not going to be pushed into hiding because of a bunch of . . . "  
"Your daughter is dead," the unknown man with the eye said, "Save your son and your wife."  
Mr. Potter's stature sank, but he still shook his head, "If we die, we die as a family."  
"Pride, Potter," the man said, "Pride is dangerous."  
"Pride is all I have left," he said.  
The eye swiveled around, and landed on James. James quickly looked away, but he knew that the man had seen him. 


	43. Chapter 42: Night

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
"You know, you'll always be what you are."  
Remus gritted his teeth and kept on writing. He wasn't going to get him to turn around. He wasn't going to let him get him this time.  
"You think I'm not going to tell them, don't you?" Snape's voice whispered so only the boy in front of him could hear his jeers, "Well, you're wrong. That oversized git doesn't scare me."  
He wrote faster. The twelve uses of dragon's blood are . . .  
"I promise you, I will tell them," Snivellus hissed, "And then they'll know what you really are. You think your friends can protect you. You're wrong. You four had a good laugh at me that night, didn't you? You wanted to kill me."  
And oven cleaner, Remus finished. He wasn't going to turn around. He wasn't going to . . .  
"It's sort of pathetic when a Mudblood like Evans has to stand up for you," he continued, a little louder, "You like her, don't you?"  
Remus glared. He was pushing his buttons. Of course he didn't like Lily. He knew that. Snape knew that. But that didn't stop him from saying it.  
The twelve uses of dragon's blood were discovered by Albus Dumbledore in . . .  
"They think that they can tame you," he said, "But look in the Dark Creatures book, Lupin. You're in there. You're a killer."  
He shifted in his chair. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't Sirius. He was going to be better than that.  
"You know what the Ministry does to killers, don't you?" Snivellus sneered, "They lock them up. In Azkaban. Or worse."  
"How about you do your work and shut up?" he said from over his shoulder.  
He felt Snape draw closer. He knew that he had Remus now. He shouldn't have said anything.  
"They can put clothes on you," he said, "And teach you. And protect you. But the world isn't too friendly to animals, Moony. How's Dumbledore going to shield you then, hey? I bet you're dead within a year."  
His fingers gripped his quill, and he leaned over his parchment. He had to finish this paper before the bell rang.  
"I bet your mother couldn't look at you after it happened," he continued on, "I bet she wants to . . ."  
"Mr. Snape, is there something that you'd like to share with the class?" Professor Hall said sternly from the front of the class.  
Snape shot back into his seat, and bent his crooked nose over his own parchment. He frowned as he began to scribble his essay. Remus sighed, and brushed his bangs out of his face. It was getting worse. Ever since yesterday, when Lily had stunned Snivellus, Snape had been merciless. It wasn't just disgusted looks in the halls anymore. It was pure loathing.  
  
"Hogsmeade weekend coming up," Sirius announced, coming back from the message board in the Gryffindor bulletin board. Lily, Remus, and Peter were sitting in the common room, trying to study for the Transfiguration test tomorrow. Peter's work, since it wasn't N.E.W.T. level, was a lot easier, and the other two were trying to teach him how to turn a mouse into a bouquet of flowers.  
"Great," Remus said, "No, Peter. You're not doing it right. You say the incantation after you raise your wand. Not before."  
Peter bit his lip, and tried again, "Mosumalus!" he spoke, and the mouse's fur grew a rose colored pattern.  
"Wonder if James will be back by then," Sirius said, and then sat down on the floor, "You think he's holding up all right?"  
"Hope so," Remus said, and then took Peter's wand, "Wormtail, it's not that hard. Look, Mosumalus." The rosy mouse turned into a beautiful bouquet, complete with a golden bow.  
"How do you do that?" Peter squeaked, taking his wand back.  
Lily was still detached from the group, sitting curled up on the couch, studying the three of them. She had never really seen a group like them before. All of her friends seemed to be air heads and phonies. She had thought that's what real friends were. But now seeing James Potter's group . . . she wasn't so sure.  
Sirius had taken a liking to her ever since the incident with Snape. It seemed that every bad thought and remark about Morgana never happened, and he was treating her with an upmost respect. As for the other two boys, they needed a little more evidence that she was worthy before giving her any true friendship.  
Remus had awkwardly asked her a few conversational questions. Peter, on the other hand, had been asking her to help him on every single piece of his homework. The other two boys were very surprised that she had the patience to put up with him. Neither of them would have lasted as long.  
"I wonder if James is still coming over to my place for Christmas," Sirius wondered aloud, "Are you two?"  
"Yeah," Peter said, still frowning at his wand. Remus nodded offhandedly as he took out his own wand, and turned the flowers back into a mouse.  
"What are you doing for Christmas, Lily?" Sirius asked politely. He felt that it was his duty to show some courtesy to her, since the other two weren't doing the honors.  
Remus narrowed his eyes as he studied him. What had changed so quickly in him?  
"I'm staying here," she said, "My family's going on a vacation to Ireland, and I don't feel very much like going."  
Sirius leaned back on the edge of the chair that he was sitting next to, putting his hands under his head, "Why don't you two take a break from that?" he said.  
The portrait hole opened, and the Fat Lady's voice could be heard, "Well, welcome back, Mr. Potter."  
The four of them turned toward the entrance, and Sirius smiled.  
"Hey, Prongs," he said as a worn James shuffled into the common room, eyes downcast to the floor.  
"Hey," he mumbled back. He was dragging his trunk behind him.  
"You feeling all right?" Lily asked, standing to help him. She took a hold of the trunk, and heaved it up the staircase for him. James muttered a "thanks" and followed her. Sirius followed the two of them to their dormitory, and shut the door behind them.  
"Was it nice?" Lily asked weakly.  
"As nice as a funeral can get," he said grimly, "They killed her with the Aveda Kedavera curse."  
Sirius blinked, "The Killing Curse?"  
"And I heard my dad talking to someone I hadn't ever seen before," James said, "The guy he was talking with seemed to know him well enough. He was willing to be his Secret Keeper. But I didn't know him."  
Lily, who was sort of lost to begin with, said, "Your dad's in trouble?"  
"I think so," James said, "He's been gone for a long time. He seemed to be expecting Wendy's death. And they were talking about how we're in danger now, too. I think they're out to get us," he looked to Sirius, "And I'm scared."  
Sirius blinked again, and stared at his friend. He had flat out said that he was scared. That wasn't like James.  
"That's it!" he said, and then ran to the door and opened it, "Moony! Wormtail! Come up here for a second!"  
"We're studying!" Remus shouted back from the common room.  
"Don't make me come down there!" he threatened, and then looked to Lily, "Out."  
"What?" she said increduously.  
"I said out! This is our room. Go to your own. Let the boys talk," he said, and shoved her through the door. Remus and Peter ran into her as she walked angriliy (and very confused) down the stairs and back to the hearth to study.  
Sirius ran to James's dresser, and opened it. He brandished the Invisibility Cloak, and then handed it to James.  
"I've had enough of this," he said, "We're going out tonight."  
"We have a test tomorrow!" Remus exclaimed as if Sirius was talking blasphemy.  
"Which is more important? A stupid test or our sanity?" Sirius said, "Now get under the Cloak."  
The three of them stared at him, as if they had never seen anything quite like him before.  
"What? You don't understand what I'm saying?" Sirius shouted at them, "Get under the Cloak!"  
"Are you ordering us around?" James asked.  
"Yes," Sirius said, and pulled out his wand, "Now get going. Don't make me hex you, Potter."  
Peter squealed, as if he thought Sirius might just do it. But James pushed the wand aside, and smiled for the first time since Wendy died.  
"I'd like to see you try," he retorted as he grabbed the Cloak from him.  
  
Lily was still sitting, disgruntled, next to the fire, as the four boys shuffled past her and to the portrait hole. James swore that he saw her glance up to where they were standing, but she didn't react in any way. They continued to the outside corridor.  
"Where to?" Sirius asked.  
"You were the one that kidnapped us!" Remus replied, "How about you figure it out."  
"Let's go back to that one room," Peter suggested.  
"What room?"  
"You know, the one that shows you whatever you want," Peter said, "In third year we went there."  
Sirius thought for a moment, and then nodded to a staircase, "I think it was up this way."  
They climbed the stairs, and found the dead end hallway that had been waiting for them to return. It was darker than before, and filled with cobwebs. No one had been up here for a very long time.  
They walked down the hall, thinking about what they wanted.  
"Somewhere to get away to," Sirius informed them all, and they didn't argue.  
They walked back to the staircase, and then back to the dead end.  
"Look," Peter pointed at the door that had magically appeared, "It's working."  
The four of them quickly scampered inside, and took the Cloak off.  
"We're getting too big for this," Remus complained, "We all can't fit inside that thing any longer."  
"Oh, stop your whining," Sirius said as they looked around the room. It was a room with couches, Quidditch posters, bookshelves, and a burning fire in the corner.  
"Excellent," he said, and took the lead to the closest couch. James followed him, looking around in awe. It hadn't been like this for the Quidditch party. It seemed a little smaller now.  
"Why are you doing this?" James asked quietly as he sat down next to Sirius.  
"Life isn't fun anymore," he replied, "We needed to get away."  
"Look," Remus pointed to a table in the corner, "Wizard's chess," he looked to James, "Up for a round?"  
"Sure," James said, and then walked to the table where two chairs had just appeared, "Are you black or white?"  
"I'll be black," Remus said, taking his seat, "Go ahead. Start."  
James thought for a moment, and then moved his pawn two spaces.  
Sirius relaxed on the couch as Peter sat down in an overstuffed chair. He had a large smile on his face as he looked up at the ceiling. He was starting to like this room.  
"I told you it existed," Peter said haughtily as he looked at the bookshelves, "Hey! Look, Sirius! It's a book!"  
"No, really," Sirius said, "Didn't think there'd be one of those on a bookshelf."  
"No, I mean, it's a book addressed to me," Peter stood up, and took it out of its place, "To Mister Wormtail," he read, and then opened it up, "'You are not pronouncing the incantation right.' Well, imagine that!"  
"Checkmate," James said, slamming the table, "I got you again."  
Remus laughed, and then set the pieces back to their proper place, "This time, I'm white."  
"Fine, but I'll still get you," James said. Sirius looked at him. He was smiling again. The glint in his eye was back. He mussed his hair.  
Prongs had returned.  
"Look!" Peter pointed to a window on the other side of the room, "It's snowing!"  
"What?" James said, as Remus quickly whispered to the black pieces to change positions.  
"Cheater!" James's queen shouted.  
"It's snowing?" Sirius stood up, and looked outside. Not only was it snowing, it was coming down in flurries.  
"That's amazing," Remus said, as James's queen took a swing at his face, "It's not really that late in the year."  
"Come on," Sirius said, "Let's go out and see it."  
"All right," James said, and stood up from the table. The four boys grabbed the Invisibility Cloak, and ducked underneath it.  
  
Soon they were outside, and crunching through the newfallen snow. It was already covering the soles of their shoes, and dropping at an enormous rate. They could hardly see anything three feet in front of them, and Peter yelled, "Let's go back inside!"  
"Don't be such a twit," Sirius said, and flew from under the Cloak. Remus groaned, "Here we go," he said, and followed his friend out into the cold wet snow.  
James took the wet cloak, and stuffed it in his pocket. No one would be able to see them from the castle.  
"Padfoot! Moony!" he shouted out into the storm.  
"Hey, Prongs!" a voice came from behind him, and he swiveled around. Hands came out of the swirling wind, and he slipped, and tumbled into the snow. Down the long hill leading to the lake, he rolled blindly, screaming.  
He could hear Sirius laughing as he hit the bottom with a thud. Then came the shouting voices of him and Remus, and two bodies rolled to either side of him.  
James joined in the laughter, and then looked at the invisible top of the hill, "Come on, Wormtail!"  
But Wormtail wouldn't come down, "No, I think I'll stay here, thanks."  
  
They opened the door to the common room. It was very quiet at one o' clock in the morning. All four of the boys were sopping wet with melted snow as they snuck through the room to the staircase.  
"That was great, Padfoot," James commented.  
"I bet it was," a voice came from behind the couch's silhouette. The boys froze, and stared at where the voice came from.  
Lily Evans was looking back at them, in curiosity.  
"Lily," James began, but she cut him off.  
"What were you doing?" she asked, "You looked like the squid attacked you."  
"And it's any of your business," Remus said.  
"Moony, please," James said, and then turned to Lily, "You're not going to get us into trouble, are you?"  
Lily blinked, "Why would you think that?"  
"You just seem the type," Sirius said protectively from behind James.  
Lily sighed, and then grabbed her books, "Just wondering if I could come along next time. I haven't ever used an Invisibility Cloak."  
Then she walked past them, and up the stairs to the dormitories. The four boys looked at each other in a daze.  
  
"No! Never!" Sirius said, "All right, I'll admit, she's not as bad as I thought she was. But she's not that good to go tagging along with us."  
"Not to mention that she can't go with us every month," Remus said, "She's not an Animagus, and she's not going to pick it up in a few days. It took you three years. I would bite her. Maybe kill her."  
"I don't believe that we should," Peter offered his opinion, "I don't trust her."  
"I'm not saying that we tell her about Remus," James argued, "I'm just saying that maybe we should . . . just show her that room or the kitchens or something . . . "  
"Never," Sirius barked.  
They were sitting in their room, drying off before jumping into bed.  
"And why not?" James said, "Just because she's a girl? Or because she's my girlfriend?"  
"How about both?" Sirius covered up, his hair still drenched.  
It felt good to argue about pointless, adolescent things again. Not if they should give their lives to save the world, not if their families were going to die. But about a girl. James smiled to himself.  
"Right now, I want to get some sleep," Sirius huffed, and turned over in his bed, "Good night."  
James gave a sigh, and then blew the candle out. It had felt good to laugh again. 


	44. Chapter 43: Pride and Fear

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: I am very proud of this chapter. It's one of my favorites. I don't know why, but it appeals to me. It's very funny, because I wrote this a few minutes before checking my replies. And there was one from Feronia, asking why Snape always got caught. I laughed, and decided it was a good thing I wrote this chapter. Here's for all you Snape fans out there. Payback.)  
  
It had happened two days before Christmas break. The day had started off normally, with breakfast and then the morning classes. James had walked Lily to her Charms room, and then had headed off with Sirius and Remus for N.E.W.T. Potions. Peter had gone to Herbology, and all was still in the corridors. A few of the teacher's voices could be heard echoing off of the walls, but it was relatively peaceful.  
  
It wasn't until the bell rang, and all of the students filed into the courtyard, did they see the sight that made them all stop and stare.  
  
High in the sky, above Hogwarts, was a floating symbol. A skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth.  
  
The students screamed, and then ran back into the castle doors, shutting them behind them. The teachers, who were patrolling the halls, pulled the prefects out of line, as the others scattered for their common rooms.  
  
"What's going on?" Professor Flitwick asked a first year named Charlie Weasley.  
  
"HE'S HERE!" he screamed, "HE'S HERE!"  
  
"Get out of the way, get out of the way," Professor McGonagall, who had just left her classroom, pushed through the rioting sea of students, and opened the doors. Some of the first years cried out in horror as she stepped into the sunlight. Her gaze flew up to the sky, and her skin became white.  
  
"Get the Headmaster, Professor Flitwick," she croaked, as she walked back inside and bolted the doors behind her, "Immediately."  
  
Then she turned to the students as Professor Flitwick scampered down the corridor to Dumbledore's office, and said, "Everyone! Simmer down! Do not panic!"  
  
This didn't help the younger students, and it was only the sixth and seventh years that obeyed her.  
  
Davey rushed forward, his wand in hand, "Let me out, Professor. I can take them."  
  
"Don't be idiotic, Mr. Gudgeon," Professor McGonagall said, and then continued, "Head Boy and Head Girl, follow me. Prefects, take your fellow students back to your House. Lock the entrances. Do not open them for anyone unless it is your respectable Head of House. Bar all of the windows. Stay in the common room, together. No matter what you hear happening outside of your dormitories, do not leave. And this includes even the seventh years," she shot a look to kill at Sirius, Remus, and Peter.  
  
"Now, Mr. Potter and Miss Evans, follow me," she then pushed her way out of the crowd, Lily and James appearing out of the students and following her to Dumbledore's office.  
  
When they arrived, all of the teachers were gathered together around the Headmaster's desk. Teachers that James had never even seen before stood, arms crossed or feet tapping the floor. Dumbledore had a look in his eye. One that James had only seen one other time, when he had announced the death of Professor Snorks.  
  
He felt someone touch his hand. He jumped, and looked to his left. There, Lily was standing, looking at their two hands that were clamped together.  
  
He gulped, and felt a new sort of fear rise up in his heart. She was holding his hand.  
  
"Albus, we haven't taken the proper precautions to keep Hogwarts out of harm's way," Professor Hall was arguing. She had lost all sweetness in her voice, and she seemed to be a totally different person. No one would have ever guessed, by looking at her now, that she had spent the past two years teaching her classes the different breedings of Kneazles.  
  
"Edna, do not jump to conclusions," Dumbledore warned her, "We are assuming that it was Voldemort (everyone in the room shuddered at the name). It could have easily been a staff member, or a student, or possibly even one of the ghosts or house elves. There are over a thousand souls present here in Hogwarts. It could have been anyone."  
  
"Are you inferring that it may have been one of us?" Professor Juniper declared.  
  
"Yes, I am," Dumbledore said, "Even though I believe it is highly unlikely. What do you think, Mr. Potter?"  
  
James looked up from Lily's hand, wide eyed at the Headmaster. He let go of Lily, and folded his hands behind his back.  
  
"Well, maybe one of the Slytherins thought it would be funny to . . ."  
  
"That is propostorous!" Hall shouted, "The Dark Mark could not have been conjured by a student. It is a very complex and difficult spell . . ."  
  
"That must be taught to someone," Dumbledore continued, "I agree with Mr. Potter. I believe it may have been one of the students. Not necessarily from Slytherin, but possibly one of the students."  
  
"You mean as a prank, right, Albus?" Professor McGonagall said, "Not as a true threat . . . "  
  
"In these times, Minerva, I cannot be sure of anything," Dumbledore rubbed his tired eyes, and then looked back at Lily, "What do you think, Miss Evans?"  
  
"I don't think it was You-Know-Who," she said quietly, "He's afraid of you. Everyone knows that."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, and then warmly said, "In my office, we use the names that things are given. Please address him as Voldemort. (another shudder)."  
  
"Yes, sir," Lily said.  
  
"We shouldn't be pointing fingers," Sprout said, "We should be out there protecting the children . . . "  
  
"She is right," Dumbledore said, "Heads of House, please report to your dormitory and stay with your students. As for the rest of you, we stay here until we arrive at a conclusion about what happened, and do what is needing to be done. This includes you, Mr. Potter and Miss Evans," James and Lily, who had started to follow Professor McGonagall out, turned around in surprise, "It's as much your school as it is ours."  
  
Some of the teachers looked increduously at Dumbledore, but didn't argue. Flitwick, Hall, Sprout, and Professor McGonagall made their way down the stairs, and out of sight.  
  
"Now, if it had been one of the students," Dumbledore continued on, "It must have been someone who was out of class. I need a list of all tardies and absences from this morning."  
  
Professor Sinistra disappeared in a rush out of the office, and Dumbledore turned to Juniper, "Ninny, I need you to send an owl to the Ministry right away. I want the entire Order down here in an hour."  
  
James looked quickly to Juniper as she took her leave.  
  
"Now, we know that Klien spoke to a few of our students before he left. We know that he was trying to recruit them at a young age. Who do we know that talked to him?" Dumbledore eyed James, but a teacher that he had never seen before spoke up.  
  
"There were only two first years," he said, "Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and Mr. Gregory Goyle."  
  
"There was another one," James interrupted. The teacher's heads turned to look at him.  
  
"Really, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore said, "Could you tell us who?"  
  
"Severus Snape," he said.  
  
"And how do you know this?" the unknown teacher asked.  
  
"That isn't of any importance," Dumbledore said, brushing the question aside, "I will take his word on the matter."  
  
Professor Sinistra returned, holding a scroll and gasping for breath.  
  
Dumbledore took it from her, and then scanned the list, "Both Malfoy and Goyle were in class on time, and left late. But Mr. Snape was absent for his N.E.W.T. Potions class."  
  
There was a silence that crossed the entire room, and Dumbledore continued, "There was another person that was tardy for his Divination class. Mr. Darryl Avery."  
  
"We should bring them in, now," the unknown teacher said, "And interrogate them both."  
  
"This is not a prison," Dumbledore argued, "We must remember, both of these boys are innocent until proven otherwise," he then turned to James and Lily, and said, "Mr. Potter, please bring Mr. Snape from his Slytherin common room. Tell Professor Hall that I wish to speak to him. Miss Evans, please bring Mr. Avery from the Gryffindor common room."  
  
James and Lily silently nodded, and then exited the office. They split up in the corridors outside, and James felt himself feeling very uneasy as he walked into the dungeons to retrieve Snape.  
  
He finally came to the opening of the House, and said through the wall, "Professor Hall, it's James Potter. Headmaster Dumbledore wants to speak to Severus Snape."  
  
The wall magically opened, and he said for the first time, the inside of the Slytherin common room. All of the Slytherin students were huddled together, behind Hall. But instead of being frightened, they had looks of enjoyment and entertainment on their faces.  
  
Snape stepped forward, out of the crowd, and he grew rigid when he saw James. His eyes narrowed, and he balled his hands into fists.  
  
Hall ushered him out without a word, and then shut the door again.  
  
"What does he want," Snape hissed as they walked out of the Dungeon and onto the main level again.  
  
"He'll tell you," James said, "Pretty nice trick you did. Bet your friends thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen."  
  
Snape looked at him, confused, and then came to a realization, "What? You think that I made the Dark Mark outside in the courtyard?"  
  
"I don't think anything," James said, "I'm just doing what Dumbledore told me to do. To get you and take you to his office. Nothing else."  
  
When they entered the office, he saw Darryl standing in the midst of teachers, all of them breathing down his neck. Snape joined him as James went to stand next to Lily again.  
  
"Mr. Snape, Mr. Avery," Dumbledore said very sternly, "Do you know why I called you here?"  
  
"No," Snape said, glaring at the Headmaster.  
  
"You both were found to be either tardy or absent from your class at the time of the spell that caused the Dark Mark that is now floating over Hogwarts," he said, "Now, we are not accusing you of any wrongdoings until we have further proof, but I believe that I speak for all of the teachers when I say that your punishment will be less severe if you speak up now with a confession."  
  
"I didn't do it," Snape said at once.  
  
Dumbledore stared into Snape's eyes, seeming to be in concentration. Yet a few seconds later, he blinked in surprise, and looked away. He rubbed his temple, and said quietly so only Snape could hear, "So, you have learned Occlumency, have you?"  
  
Snape narrowed his eyes.  
  
"You shouldn't have anything to hide," Dumbledore said, "Do you, Mr. Snape? Have anything to hide?"  
  
"I have a right to my thoughts," he said simply.  
  
"We do not teach Occlumency here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, "Would you like to tell us something, Mr. Snape?"  
  
"No, I would not like to," he spat back. Professor Sinistra stared at him, as if she couldn't believe what disrespect he was showing towards Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore didn't seem moved by it, though, and turned to look in Darryl's eyes. Darryl looked away, and Dumbledore sighed.  
  
"Mr. Snape, are you sure that you would not like to tell us what happened?" he said.  
  
"I'm sure," he replied, "I was with Lucius Malfoy all this morning. At breakfast, I felt sick. So I went back to my dormitory to lay down."  
  
"Did anyone see you in your dormitory?" Dumbledore interrogated.  
  
"No," Snape said, "They were all at class."  
  
"Can Mr. Malfoy back your story up?" Professor Sinistra asked.  
  
Snape nodded, "Yes, he will. He saw me enter the dormitory. And then he saw me come down the stairs from my room and into the common room when everyone starting filing in. I don't know what really happened."  
  
"Do you have your wands handy?" Professor Sinistra asked. Both boys took their wands out of their pockets, and handed them to her.  
  
"That doesn't look like yours, Mr. Snape," she said as she examined them.  
  
"I got a new one this summer," he said defensively.  
  
"Deletrius," Sinistra said as her own wand touched the boys'. From Snape's wand came a wispy smoke of a floating matchbox, and from Darryl's came a silvery light.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa and Lumos, Headmaster," she said, giving them their wands back, "They are both innocent."  
  
"I still would like to speak with Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore objected, "Please send for him."  
  
Snape glared at the Headmaster, as if he was about to wring his neck.  
  
It was a few minutes later that Lucius Malfoy was standing in the entranceway, following Sinistra to Dumbledore's desk. James watched him as he quickly made eye contact with Snape. Snape seemed very focused, and the white haired boy nodded at him. Snape nodded back, and turned to look at Dumbledore again.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, did you accompany Mr. Snape back to his dormitory this morning before class?" Dumbledore asked him.  
  
"Yes," Lucius said in his drawling voice, "I did."  
  
"And yet you still managed to arrive at your next class on time," he said suspiciously.  
  
"Yes, I did," Lucius said.  
  
"And was Mr. Snape in the dormitory when you returned with the rest of the Slytherins?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Yes, he was," Lucius said.  
  
"There's all the proof you need, Headmaster," a teacher from his right said, "We have a witness, we've seen their last spells. No seventh year could conjure that Mark."  
  
Dumbledore sighed, and rubbed his eyes again, "Very well. We are sorry for the disturbance. Mr. Avery, Mr. Snape, Mr. Malfoy, you may return to your common rooms. James, Miss Evans, please escort them back."  
  
The four students left, and climbed down the staircase. Lily and Darryl headed for the Gryffindor common room, while James, Malfoy, and Snivellus walked back towards the dungeons.  
  
"You know," James said as they reached the wall that disguised the Slytherin House, "It's funny that you knew that the Dark Mark was floating over the courtyard if you weren't sure of what happened."  
  
"Shut up, Potter," Snape said, "It's all anyone was talking about in the common room. I overheard them."  
  
"Thank you for being our liason back," Malfoy sneered, "Now go back up to your little Mudblood friends and leave us alone."  
  
The two of them laughed as James turned his back and headed for the staircase. But at the last minute, he looked back. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling in his stomach like something wasn't right.  
  
And his intuition wasn't wrong. There was Lucius, holding Snape's old wand. He handed it back to Snape, and Snape handed the wand he had shown Sinistra to Lucius.  
  
"Felt sick, hey?" Malfoy said as they turned towards the door, "Better excuse than what I would have come up with."  
  
"That old crackpot doesn't deserve to be Headmaster," Snape laughed, and then they said the password, and Hall's face appeared again.  
  
James stared at them as they closed the door with a bang. He had no proof. Even if he did tell Dumbledore, there would be no evidence. Just his word against Snape's, and Snape had already proven his case innocent.  
  
And if he did tell on him, what would he do? If he could make that Mark in the sky, and then get away with it, what else could he do? Was he already working for Voldemort? Was he already more powerful than him or Sirius or Remus?  
  
James climbed the stairs. He decided to keep it to himself. What if the Death Eaters found out who had ratted on him? What if it hadn't been a prank? What if it was a real warning? What would happen to his family? What would happen to him?  
  
All of a sudden he felt a disgust for himself. He never thought that he would be scared of Snivellus Snape.  
  
It was on his way back to Gryffindor Tower that he spotted a large group of wizards and witches entering through the oak doors. Juniper was leading the lot of them up the marble staircase. The man from the funeral was ahead of the others, and behind a group of people he didn't know was a face from a Chocolate Frog card. Frank Longbottom. And his wife, Alice. Behind them came the four seventh years that had been called down to the office the year before. And bringing up the rear was Sturgis Podmore, and . . .  
  
"Dad?" James choked as he saw the familiar face step onto the first stair.  
  
Mr. Potter swiveled around, and then stared at James as if he hadn't ever seen him before, "James? What are you doing out here?"  
  
"I knew it!" he shouted, and the mysterious man from the funeral turned around to face him. Mr. Potter sighed, and waved his hand at him.  
  
"It's all right, Alastor," he said, "It's my son."  
  
"You ARE one of them!" James cried. He had known it from the beginning. It had been obvious. But he had never had actual proof. No proof that he couldn't deny, anyway.  
  
He had tried to deny it. Yes, he had been strong. Yes, Sirius and him had talked long into the night about Mr. Potter's escapades. Yes, he had heard Professor June and Dumbledore name his father years ago, he had heard June's groaning in their living room, he had heard his father speaking to that stranger, he had seen so many things. And it would have been stupid to try to deny it. But it had seemed like a dream. Seeing his father, mixed in with the doomed souls of the Order, had made it reality. He was going to die. They were all going to die.  
  
All for his father's pride.  
  
"James -"  
  
"Why didn't you just tell me?" he said. Fear was welling up in his heart. Half of the members of Dumbledore's Order had been killed. Their families killed. Wendy was dead. And they truly were next.  
  
His father had written their epitaphs and had dug their graves.  
  
"James, we need to talk about this later," Mr. Potter said.  
  
"I didn't want to believe it," he said, "But I knew. It wasn't them who killed Wendy. It was you. You killed her by fighting them! You provoked them! You knew that someone was going to get hurt! I heard you talking to Mum, and at the funeral!"  
  
"James, please," Mr. Potter said, "I don't have time for this. Please, can we talk about this later?"  
  
"I thought that you were there to protect us!" he cried, "But you sold us out! You . . . "  
  
"James!" he shouted, and his voice echoed through the halls. His son stared at him, breathing heavily. All of his anger had come out with this sight. His father patrolling the world with people he had never known. And it would cost them their lives. He knew it would. He had known that he was part of the Order. They had all known. There was no more denying it. They would die.  
  
"You're too young to understand," he said, exasperated, "There are things worth fighting for."  
  
"I'm seventeen, Dad," James said, "When do I get old enough to understand?"  
  
His father adjusted his glasses, and then said very sternly, "Not today, obviously."  
  
"Whatever happened to our family?" he shouted.  
  
But Mr. Potter didn't answer. He turned on his heels, and scaled the rest of the staircase, after Juniper and the rest of the Order.  
  
James made an oath that day. Never would he put his family in danger. Everything that he had believed before . . . every heroic deed that had entered his mind . . . was erased in seconds. He would never make the mistake that his father had made. He would not let his daughter and son and wife die, just for a stupid moral. He would never put anyone else in danger for his own selfish beliefs.  
  
As he walked back to the Tower, feeling very angry, hundreds of memories of him in his bed at night, swearing that he would do something to stop Voldemort. But Sirius had been right all along. There was nothing that he could do that wouldn't end up hurting the people he cared about. He had to protect what was left of the people he loved.  
  
He entered the common room, and announced that no one had been found guilty yet. Professor McGonagall was trying to calm a group of first years, and the upperclassmen were helping her with the younger children. He felt hatred in his heart towards Snivellus. He wanted to tell someone. Anyone.  
  
But he knew that he couldn't.  
  
He never could.  
  
The teachers arrived at the conclusion that it was a bad prank from a student that wanted to stir up trouble. The Order had checked the perimeters twice. Ministry of Magic officials had arrived later in the afternoon. No sign of any Death Eaters or illegal activity was found. And with every passing hour that the Gryffindors were locked in their tower, James's heart pounded faster. But he never said a word. 


	45. Chapter 44: Sirius's Mistake

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The last night before Christmas break was a full moon. If it hadn't been for Remus's obligation to become a werewolf, they would have called it off. But due to the urgency of them needing to be with him, they decided that they should go on with their plans.  
Padfoot and Prongs led the way out of the Whomping Willow's hole as Moony and Wormtail ascended behind them. Into the darkness of the grounds they went, closer and closer to the school. They were all starving, since they had missed both lunch and dinner the day before, and had been too nervous about the day before to eat anything that past afternoon.  
It was the kitchens that they were heading for.  
Wormtail took the Marauder's Map out of Padfoot's mouth, and quickly pinned it to the ground with his tiny rat hands. They had already unlocked it in the tunnel before meeting Remus, and now they were ready to read it.  
There were four dots making their way through the hall. One read "FRANK LONGBOTTOM," another "STURGIS PODMORE." Then, next to the kitchen was a smaller dot that was entitled "MRS. NORRIS." And finally one in an upper corridor, reading "ARGUS FILCH."  
Padfoot took the map back in his mouth, and they started for the building. Mrs. Norris would be far away from the kitchens by the time they made it there. She usually prowled that area, and then moved onto the marble staircases upstairs.  
They quietly opened the oak doors, and krept inside. Down to the next level, and into the dungeons, where the kitchen was located. Mrs. Norris would be gone by now.  
Moony nudged his muzzle towards the map. They should check it again. But Padfoot shook his head, and kept walking through the dark hallway. There wasn't time.  
The kitchen door was propped open, and a light was on from inside. Wormtail sped ahead, and peered into the room. He then turned to the four boys, and nodded. Padfoot and Prongs, leading Moony in cautiously, darted their heads in every direction. It seemed that Mrs. Norris had retired to the upper level.  
Wormtail skidded to a stop outside of a large cupboard, and pointed to the handle. Prongs bit it, and opened the door to reveal the most beautiful sight that they had ever seen.  
Three large cakes, all mounded with icing, cherries, hot fudge, and everything else that one could think of. The cupboard was magically cold, and the cakes were frozen in time. They must have been saving them for the Christmas feast next week.  
Padfoot lunged headfirst into the closest one, and began to inhale the entire cake. Wormtail bit off a piece of one of the cakes, and scurried into a corner to devour it. Prongs shoved a cake onto the floor for him and Moony to share.  
It tasted so good.  
Prongs stopped, and lifted his head. He cocked his ears to the side.  
Padfoot looked up, too, and turned in the same direction as his friend.  
They had heard something.  
Wormtail looked at his two friends, and then at the door. There, appearing from behind the door, was a smaller cat. Her eyes glew green as she pranced closer to them.  
The four boys looked at each other, and all had the same thought.  
Run.  
They dropped the cakes, and skidded past the cat who was meowing loudly. Up the stairs, through the Entrance Hall, out the oak doors, down the stairs, across the grounds.  
Peter ran through the branches of the Whomping Willow, and touched the knot. It grew still. The four of them leapt into the hole, and flew through the tunnel. The trap door was still open as they leaped into the living room, and slammed it behind them.  
They all caught their breath as they waited for some sort of noise to come from the tunnel underneath them. But nothing came. Nothing ever came.  
They didn't dare go back out again after being caught by Mrs. Norris. They would be lucky if they weren't found out now. Oh, how they had been so naïve.  
Padfoot blinked, and then looked around at the four of them, and then at himself, and then at the floor. He then gave out a howl, and ran back for the trap door. Prongs stopped him, and he growled. Prongs didn't know what the matter was, but he wasn't going to let Padfoot risk their secret for anything.  
They were all safe and in one piece. That's what mattered.  
  
Sunrise came, and the three friends watched as Remus turned into a human again. It seemed somehow angelic, seeing the curse reversed. Seeing Remus's smiling face appear from behind the evil mask of a snarling wolf.  
But today, his face was not smiling. It was glaring. Right at Sirius.  
"You did it, didn't you?" he said as Sirius transformed back into a human, "You finally did it."  
"Did what?" James asked, standing up from the floor.  
Sirius desperately looked at James, and then walked over to a wall and hit it. It left a large dent, "I can't believe I was so stupid!"  
"What?" Peter squeaked.  
"He lost the map," Remus growled.  
"You - did- WHAT?" James shouted, and walked towards Sirius, his hands in fists.  
"I was eating the cake," Sirius said, "And I set the map down. And then Mrs. Norris came, and . . . it's still laying there, on the floor."  
"I doubt it," Remus said, "Wherever Mrs. Norris goes, Filch goes. And Filch has a whole drawer filled with things that he finds from students."  
"Unwiped!" James cried, "Do you understand how much trouble we're going to get into when they realize who made it?"  
"It doesn't have our names on it," Sirius said weakly, "Isn't that why we made up those nicknames? Just in case this ever happened?"  
"We've been using them enough for everyone in school to know them!" James argued, "We're goners!"  
"Now don't start making things out to be worse than they are," Sirius said, "They have no proof that we made it."  
"Except that it says Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs on it about a hundred times!" James shouted.  
"All of that work for nothing," Remus said sadly, sitting down on the couch, "All of that stupid work for nothing."  
"Mr. Lupin?"  
A voice was coming from the trap door underneath them. James, Sirius, and Peter leaped into the pantry, and Remus sighed. He walked over to the door, and then jumped down to meet Madam Pomfrey.  
"How was your night," she asked.  
"It was fine," he lied, and then the trap door closed.  
  
They had all been on the edges of their seats the next day as they packed to leave for Christmas. James was sure that they were going to get caught. He was sure that someone would figure out everything that happened, and it would all be over.  
Sirius had gone back downstairs to check the kitchen, and mournfully reported to the rest of his dormitory room that the map was truly gone. Filch had taken it for sure.  
They rolled their trunks out to catch the train back as soon as they were ready to go. They didn't feel like mingling with the other students just so one of the teachers could ask for them to come up to their office and expel them. They thought that if they could leave now and not get caught, maybe it would blow over during Christmas break.  
But James had insisted on seeing Lily and saying goodbye.  
She had been talking with some of her giggly friends in the corner, but she seemed to be a little detached from them now for some reason. They all stared at James, some of them in disgust, and other with flirting looks, as he tapped Lily on the shoulder.  
"You heading off?" she asked, standing up to face him.  
"Yeah," James said, "We're going to Sirius's place. Here's the address, if you want to send owls or something," he handed her a slip of parchment.  
"Thanks," she said, and then leaned in to him. And then he felt her wet lips on his.  
His eyes grew wide, and James's friends, along with Lily's, grew silent.  
They were kissing. This was . . . too . . . was it happening to him? Was Lily Evans kissing him?  
Lily stepped back, and smiled. Her red hair bounced onto her face, and she bit her lip.  
"I'll see you when you get back," she said, and then reclaimed her chair from one of the girls that had sat down in it, "Have a good holiday."  
"Happy Christmas," James said, still not sure of what he was in was a dream or reality.  
"Happy Christmas," she said, peeking over the back of the chair. Her emerald green eyes glittered in the firelight.  
He was the luckiest boy in all the world.  
"Come on, lover boy," Sirius said, grabbing him and shoving him out of the door. He forced a smile onto his face for James's sake, and then waved back to Lily, "Have a nice break."  
"You too, Sirius," Lily said.  
As they climbed out of the hole and down the stairs, Remus and Sirius lagged behind the other two.  
"You took that well, Padfoot," Remus commented.  
"He deserves her," Sirius said weakly, "She gives him some happiness in his life. And doesn't he need that right now. What, with his dad in the Order, his sister dead."  
"You think he really is in danger?" Remus asked, lowering his voice.  
"What do you think we should have for dinner tonight?" Sirius said, ignoring Remus's question, "I've learned how to cook a little. Have any special preferences?" 


	46. Chapter 45: Conference of the Order

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Upon returning to Sirius's flat, they realized that they would not be able to rely on him for food.  
  
"Liar," Remus had said as he almost burned his kitchen to ashes.  
  
"Grab that fire extinguisher!" Sirius shouted, snatching a blanket from the closet and running to the flames that were engulfing the oven.  
  
"The what?" James was holding his ears as a very high beeping noise sounded from the ceiling. He looked up to see a round cylinder with a red light blinking on and off.  
  
"That red thing over there on the wall!" he threw the blanket on the oven, and batted it down, "Bring it here!"  
  
James and Remus ran to the small extinguisher in the corner, and Remus grabbed it, throwing it to Sirius.  
  
"Here!"  
  
"Oh, can someone turn that beeping off?" Peter asked, falling onto the ground, holding his ears.  
  
Sirius took the nozzle, pulled the trigger, and a white spray engulfed both the blanket and the oven. The four boys stood, gasping for air, as the cylinder kept blaring. Remus looked to James, and then to Sirius.  
  
"So," he said, "Now that we've almost burned the entire building down, what are we going to eat."  
  
James took out his wand to clean the mess up, but Remus shook his head, "We're still in school, remember?"  
  
James sighed, and then stared at the burnt kitchen as Sirius held his arm.  
  
"You all right, Padfoot?" he said, walking over to him.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, "Just a little burn. Could have been worse."  
  
A knock sounded from the door, and Sirius ran to the entrance. He opened the door to reveal a woman, holding a book in one hand and her keys in the other. She took one look at Sirius's charred sleeve, and then let herself in.  
  
"I knew it," she said, "You would burn the place down in a matter of months. Your parents letting you go out on your own without knowing how to cook. Without knowing how to use a stove."  
  
"Good evening to you, too, Mrs. Lindher," he said, and shut the door behind her.  
  
Mrs. Lindher looked very good for her age. She was skinnier, with brown bangs and shoulder length hair. She was sporting jeans and a T-shirt as she walked in, and stared at the other three boys in their newly bought Muggle clothes.  
  
"And these are your friends?" Mrs. Lindher asked Sirius, who was heading back for the kitchen, empty fire extinguisher in hand. The smoke alarm was still beeping.  
  
"Yeah," Sirius hoisted himself up on the counter, and reached for the alarm. The noise stopped. He then jumped back down to the floor, and waved a hand at James, "This is James Potter, my best friend. And Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Friends from school."  
  
"Ah, you three go to Smeltings as well?" Mrs. Lindher asked.  
  
The three of them blinked, and then turned to Sirius for an explanation.  
  
"Yes," Remus said quickly, "Smeltings."  
  
"This is Mrs. Lindher," Sirius explained, "She lives down the hall. She was on holiday last time you three were here."  
  
"I heard a noise, and then I saw smoke billowing out from under your door," Mrs. Lindher continued, "I was just wondering if you hadn't killed yourself yet."  
  
"Well, thanks for checking up on us," Sirius said, "We're fine. Say hello to Joey for me."  
  
"I will," Mrs. Lindher walked back to the door, and then waved at the other boys, "Nice to meet you all."  
  
"Nice to meet you, too," Remus said politely, and the door shut behind her.  
  
"Sirius Black, having Muggles take care of him," James laughed, "Does she cook your food, too?"  
  
"No," Sirius huffed, grabbing the burnt blanket and throwing it in the trash, "I rely on your mum to do that for me."  
  
The Leaky Cauldron was crowded, even on a Sunday night. Many London-based students of Hogwarts could be seen taking their first night out on the town. Diagon Alley was showered in a beautiful dazzle of fairy lights, and invisible bells seemed to jingle at every corner. Snow constantly fell in a beautiful flurry that caked the rooftops like icing. After checking out a bit of his money from his account, Sirius led his three friends through the main street.  
  
"Happy Christmas!" a rosy-cheeked witch shouted from her shop entrance. Remus smiled, and said, "Happy Christmas to you, too."  
  
There was a clutter of younger boys and girls, carrying songbooks with them, making their way up and down the street, singing carols. Mothers and fathers carried large boxes of gifts for last minute shopping. It was beautiful.  
  
Upon arriving back in the Leaky Cauldron, the four of them found a circular wooden table in the corner, cut off from the rest of the crowd's din. A waitress came to take their order as they shook the snow off of their cloaks.  
  
"You know," Remus said, looking to Sirius as the waitress took their menus, "I think that you would be better off not ever touching an oven again. On second thought, why don't you just move into a Wizard home, and be done with the whole thing?"  
  
"No," Sirius said, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, "I enjoy my keys, and my fire extinguisher, and my smoke detector very much, thanks."  
  
James laughed, and then shifted in his chair, "One more semester, mates. Just one more, and then we're done with Hogwarts."  
  
"It is sort of a shame," Sirius said, "Never thought I'd say it, but I'm going to miss school."  
  
"Well, you've got three more years of it," Remus said, as the waitress returned with butterbeer for all, "If you're still going to be an Auror."  
  
"Actually, I was thinking about doing more than being an Auror," Sirius said darkly, and opened his bottle. He took a swig, and James glanced at him from the corner of his eye.  
  
"What?" Peter asked.  
  
"I want to join the Order," he said, and then took another swig. James shifted in his chair, and then coughed.  
  
"Why would you want to do that?" Peter asked, "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who outnumbers them. They're goners."  
  
"Shut up, Peter," James snapped, and then popped his own lid off of his bottle.  
  
"What? What did I say now?" he asked, turning to face him.  
  
James looked at him, as if he hadn't been expecting a reply.  
  
"What you always say," Sirius said, "Something stupid."  
  
"I get sick and tired of you three trying to shove me around all the time," Peter said, turning on Sirius, "I asked a question. I - I . . ."  
  
"Well, you know bloody well that James's father's in the Order," Sirius interrupted him, slamming down on his chair's front two legs, "It was a stupid thing to say."  
  
Peter turned red, and then lowered his eyes to the table, "Sorry, James."  
  
James didn't answer, and took another drink of his butterbeer. He then looked to Remus, and said, "You up for a game of wizard's chess tonight?"  
  
Remus quietly nodded, and then looked towards Sirius. But Sirius was purposely avoiding his stare.  
  
"Wish that we could go through a whole meal without having an argument," he said, even quieter than before, and then started peeling the label off of his bottle.  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked, now looking directly at him.  
  
"I mean, that for the past few months, any time that we try to talk to each other in a civilized manner, it always turns back to this," he waved his hands at the table, "James holding his head, Peter stuttering, and you with that dark look on your face. Every time!"  
  
"So, Sirius," James said, ignoring Remus's comment, "Could you tell me something about these Muggle appliances?"  
  
"Sure, Prongs," he said, leaning back in his chair. Remus scowled, and took another drink.  
  
"What exactly is the reason for a mike-wro-wave?" James continued.  
  
"I'm not really sure," he said in a fake tone of voice, "But I think that it has something to do with the weather. I don't have one yet. Not looking into getting one."  
  
"You two are just like you were the day I met you!" Remus glared at them.  
  
James and Sirius blinked, and then looked back at him in awe.  
  
"Well, yeah," Sirius laughed, "I'll be taking that one as a compliment. And what's wrong with you lately? You're more . . . how do I put it . . . willing to jump down our backs?"  
  
"Hey, look!" Peter said, pointing to a table a few tables away from them, "Isn't that that one man that was at Hogwarts with Dumbledore the other day?"  
  
James looked quickly over in the direction that Peter was pointing, and then gasped.  
  
"That's him!" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat, "That's the guy that was at Wendy's funeral!"  
  
"Who is it?" Sirius asked no one in particular.  
  
The man's back was turned to him, but they could make out a hunched posture, and greasy dark hair hiding his face from view. James felt a shudder go through his body as he heard the low, raspy voice through the din of the tavern. They listened closer to the conversation that he was having with a stranger that none of them recognized. The person was under a cloak, and his face was concealed.  
  
"Has he picked the five new recruits yet?" the hunched man said.  
  
The stranger nodded.  
  
"And they would be?"  
  
"You want to know now, Alastor? I would have thought you would be a little more cautious," the voice came. It was a woman's voice. A sharp toned, aged, and very familiar woman's voice.  
  
"You're right," "Alastor" said, nodding, "It isn't safe here. Who knows who could be watching."  
  
"Everyone already knows all of us that are in the Order," the woman said.  
  
Sirius nudged James and Remus, and they looked to him.  
  
"It's Professor McGonagall," he hissed, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere."  
  
"And that isn't my fault, Minerva," Alastor said, "I told them when Albus called us all down to the school in the first place, that we should take constant vigilance, that we should be aware of the members' families, that we all should go into hiding and work secretly from a headquarters . . . "  
  
"Half of the Order has children," Professor McGonagall argued, "What would you do if you could not see anyone of any importance to you? What about the teachers at Hogwarts that have joined?"  
  
"I have no one of importance," Alastor retorted, "Therefore I make it of importance to me to make sure that people who do have some one are kept safe."  
  
"Albus wanted me to give you this list," Professor McGonagall said, "The five recruits will be arriving at your house in six months, with a little luck."  
  
Alastor took the list, and read the names. He didn't say any of them out loud, but nodded his head to signify that he was proud of the choices that Dumbledore had made.  
  
"Ah, yes," Alastor said, "The first one is a fine choice, Minerva. A fine choice. Not so sure about the second one. Are we sure he has a hold of his . . . erm . . ."  
  
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, "He is perfectly sane, if that's what you're asking. I've known him for seven years, and I would trust him with my life."  
  
"Ah, Minerva," Alastor said, "You are very hypocritical. Wasn't it only a few days ago that you were telling me about the little incident? Wasn't it him that it involved?"  
  
Professor McGonagall's stature drooped, but she kept loyal to the second recruit, "He will be a fine choice."  
  
"The third one . . . I don't know this one . . ."  
  
"He's a very loyal friend," Professor McGonagall said, "Or at least, Albus sees something in him. Not sure exactly what . . ."  
  
"And the fourth one . . . I recognize the last name . . . Ah, yes, the little brat," he smiled, "Well, what a choice that will be. He's got spirit. I had the pleasure of seeing him recently. And finally, we come to the fifth. Well, what a surprise."  
  
"I don't see any surprise there," she said sternly.  
  
"He wouldn't have been my first choice, that is for sure," Alastor continued, "A little . . . er . . . iffy around the edges when it comes to loyalty, if you know what I mean. Yes, I heard what he did to that other boy. Albus told me all about it."  
  
"Well, you seem to be well informed on all of those recruits," Professor McGonagall snorted.  
  
"We have been watching a handful of them for a while," Alastor said, giving her the paper back, and added, "Burn it. Then take the ashes and put an invisibility spell on them. Then throw them off of the closest bridge you can find. Choose one, there are a few here in London. No one will be able to find it, then."  
  
He stood, his shoulders still crouched, and grabbed his cloak from the back of his chair, "And ask Albus if he's sure about that last one."  
  
"He is sure," Professor McGonagall said defiantly, and then put the paper into the candlelight that was on their table, "I don't understand why you would think any differently."  
  
"I know that crowd that he grew with," Alastor said, "I've killed some of them myself. If we haven't picked up a person that Klien got to first, it would be him. I would bet my money on it."  
  
Professor McGonagall scoffed, and then Alastor took his leave. The four boys hid their faces as he quickly scuttled past them, striding in large steps, his appearance being one of a soldier.  
  
Professor McGonagall quickly looked around, scooped up the ashes, and laid them on her tray. She then set her money on the table next to their finished food, and made her way out, her body still engulfed in the emerald green cloak. They all hid their faces again, and then recovered as she walked past them.  
  
"Well, that was interesting," Remus said quietly, as she disappeared from the tavern.  
  
"Five more recruits," Sirius said, and then sighed, "So . . . have any of you ever been to a 'cinema?' They're excellent. Went to one of them before school started."  
  
James tried to listen to the conversation, but his mind was racing. He hadn't been able to concentrate on anything since he had seen his father in the Entrance Hall. It just kept playing back in his mind, over and over again. Things tended to do that when he wanted to forget them.  
  
It wouldn't be long now, he told himself. He looked into the corner opposite of theirs, and squinted his eyes.  
  
Maybe if he looked long enough, one of Wendy's Klipooraks would appear. 


	47. Chapter 46: Christmas at the Flat

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The snow had fallen even heavier upon London that night. It was the eve before Christmas, and the entire world was sleeping. All except Lupin, who was doing some last minute wrapping in the corner as the other three slept. He had given up his mattress to Sirius, since he knew that he wouldn't be resting at all that night. Sirius was already snoring, in tune with James from the other room.  
A book about spells and transfiguration for Peter. A Quidditch poster for James (even though he had the feeling that he was going to be poked fun at for such a present. For James was "mature" now, and didn't collect Chudley Cannon merchandise any longer). And a knife to open any door for Sirius. Yes, it would be the perfect Christmas.  
Remus had written his mother earlier that evening, and had told her all about how he was doing. How he was making sure to get his work done before the end of the week.  
But something was still stuck in the back of his mind. Something that Sirius had said at the Leaky Cauldron.  
"And what's wrong with you lately? You're more . . . how do I put it . . . willing to jump down our backs?"  
He had been right. Remus had fully enclosed himself in his studies, hoping that he would get enough marks to become a teacher .  
He wasn't like Sirius. He couldn't just read something, and know it. He had to actually study it. Learn it. Drool over it before it penetrated his skull.  
Sirius didn't understand anyone but himself. And Remus thought that he probably didn't want to.  
"Need help?"  
Remus looked up, and saw the pudgy face of Peter, head raised from his pillow on the couch. Remus shrugged, "If you want to, I guess."  
Peter didn't seem like he wanted to, but he crawled out of bed anyway, and dragged himself to the spot where Remus was wrapping the two remaining presents. James's and Sirius's.  
"James is right, you know," Peter said, taking the Spell-o-Tape, "We are growing up."  
Remus nodded, "I don't think he fully understands that. Or at least Sirius doesn't."  
"Sirius doesn't understand anything," Peter agreed sadly, and then sighed a tired sigh. Remus patted him on the back. Sirius always gave Peter a hard time. And he would never stop giving him a hard time.  
"You know," Peter said, breaking the tape into pieces, "I never felt like one of the group."  
"I know how you feel sometimes," Remus said, "With those two like they are, carrying on with their tricks, and pranks, and great plans to get us all killed ."  
"But you liked it," Peter said, his face turning red, "Didn't you?"  
Remus smiled, and then said, "Every minute of it."  
Peter grew quiet, and then went back to wrapping Sirius's present.  
"What about you?" Remus asked.  
Peter shrugged, and then took the tape out of his mouth, and stuck it to the gift.  
  
The night turned into day quickly, and Peter fell asleep on the floor after they had set out all of the gifts, dressed the table, etc. Remus had taken his spot on the couch, and had put in two hours of a good night's rest. And even if the sleep only lasted for a short while, the dream seemed to go on for an eternity . . .  
He was laying in the Shrieking Shack, defenseless. The wolf was on the other side of the room, snarling. Clawing at the floor.  
Breathing in and out.  
Staring at him.  
He was down. There was nothing else to do. It was over with. He was dead.  
And the wolf turned into the man that he had seen in the woods years ago. The one that had bit him. He smiled, and cackled at him, "You are a monster."  
And slowly, the man turned to Professor Klien. Then, finally to Professor June.  
"I will not die," he shouted, the music box chiming behind him.  
June stared into Remus's eyes, hurting. Yet . . . free . . .  
"I will not die," he repeated.  
"What?" Remus gasped from his spot on the floor. Where was James and Sirius and Peter? Where were they? What was this thing in front of him? Who was it? It couldn't be June! June had left years ago!  
"I will not die," he said again, and Remus felt himself grow stronger. He sat, and stared at the man who had . . . yes . . . died!  
"But you are dead!" he shouted back.  
"I will not die!"  
"Stop saying that!" Remus stood to his feet now, very angry with June, "You're dead! You died a long time ago!"  
"I will not die!"  
And all of a sudden, in front of his eyes, June shifted form.  
"I will not die!"  
In front of him, stood the figure of an older man. He wasn't old, he knew that. But he looked older. His graying hair mixed with his brown locks, and his robes were shabby. Remus knew this man. He knew him very well.  
"I. Will. Not. Die," this man cried out to him, and Remus felt himself racing forward, towards himself.  
And then he was falling.  
"Wake up, everyone! It's morning!"  
Peter's voice sounded from inside his head, and his eyes snapped open. His friend was standing over the display they had made that night, and Sirius was yawning from his cornered mattress. James exited his bedroom, mussing his hair. He stretched, and then saw the presents that Remus had wrapped added to their own pile that the other three had brought.  
"Oh, Moony," he said, "You didn't have to get me anything. You shouldn't have."  
"I know I shouldn't have," Remus smiled, and threw him his present, "And don't thank me until you've seen what it is."  
James unwrapped it, and then gasped with surprise.  
"Oh my God!" he exclaimed, "I didn't think they had this one still in print. Thank you!" Sirius snorted, and James looked to him quickly, and back at Remus, "I mean, it's great. Thanks," he said a little less enthusiastic.  
"Thank you, Sirius," Peter squeaked from across the room. He brandished an album that was looking very Muggle-ish. James laughed, and then shook his head.  
"You really need to get another place to live, mate," he said, and went for the next present.  
  
"And it's a beautiful 1977 Christmas here in London today," the voice came over the "radio." The boys were trying to listen while they took the newly arrived food from the front door to the kitchen for preparing.  
"A radio, hey?" Remus said as he took the delivery boxes out of the bags, "Very interesting. And it talks by itself?"  
"No," Sirius said, "I'm not exactly how it works. I just know how to turn it on and off, and this is the only stupid voice I can get out of it. It's supposed to get more, but I have no idea how to work it."  
James laughed, and opened one of the styrofoam boxes. Mashed potatoes.  
"You can't burn a place down with delivery," Remus commented, and then set the turkey slices they had purchased on a plate.  
They had four sacks' worth of food. That was sixteen boxes to empty, pile together, and throw in the trash bin. But soon the Christmas songs were playing happily on the radio, and they were all seated around the small table in his living room, eating to their hearts' desires.  
"And so, then I said to her," Sirius said, gulping his wine that they had brought out of his "frigidaire," "What do you mean you're not going to go the Graduation Dance with me? And you know what she said?"  
"What? That you were an arrogant git?" James laughed, eating his potatoes.  
"Well, something like that," Sirius replied, and then sighed, "I've got no one to go to the Graduation Dance with. What a damn bloody world this is."  
"Well, how about you ask Elise?" Remus asked, and cut into his turkey.  
"Elise?" Sirius leaned back on his chair, "Oh, I don't think so. She's . . ."  
"Fawning over you the entire time that you've known her," James finished, "Come on now, Padfoot. Now don't tell me that you're scared of a girl."  
"I'm not scared, thanks," Sirius slammed back on all four chair's feet, "Fine. You don't think that I can ask her, I will. And it will be the greatest night of my life. I'll bet you anything on it."  
"And what about you two?" James asked, "You two have anyone that you're looking into asking?"  
"No," Remus said, "That's the night of a full moon. I've already checked."  
"You're kidding," Sirius said, "Talk about bad timing."  
"I was thinking maybe one of Lily's friends would like to go with me," Peter said meekly, pleading with James with his big eyes, "I mean, I . . . she has an awful lot of them . . . maybe one would . . . "  
"I'll ask her," James said, "We can probably find someone."  
"Wait," Sirius said, and leaned in to Remus, "You mean that we're not going to be there with you for your last transformation at Hogwarts?"  
"Yeah, I guess not," Remus said glumly, and took a drink of his wine.  
  
"Well, that just isn't fair!" Sirius exclaimed, and set his fork down with a clank, "We need to celebrate our seven years of marauding with one final hooray, don't we?"  
"What are you implying, Padfoot?" James asked.  
"That we ditch the dance, and hide out with Moony," he said, smiling, "I'm not giving up our last night . . . and, of course, your well being, Moony," he added, "To go joy dance with a bunch of giggly girls? Now come on, Prongs, what kind of friends would we be if we did such a thing?"  
"Friends that don't want to go to the trouble of asking a certain giggly girl out," James smiled, and then Sirius shook his head.  
"No, we would be selfish friends," he said, "We would be completely selfish friends. Letting poor little Moony walk down that long dark tunnel by himself, scratching and clawing himself to death . . ."  
"All right, we know," Remus stopped him.  
"So we should just skip the whole stupid Graduation Dance, and maraud one last time. Agreed, everyone?"  
"Agreed!" Peter said with anticipation. But James was toying with his food.  
"Sirius, I asked Lily to the dance," he said, "I can't go. I have to take her."  
Sirius groaned, and Remus said, "It's all right, James. We understand. Don't we, Padfoot?"  
Sirius felt a foot kick his leg under the table, and he muttered, "Yeah. Right. It's fine, Prongs. Don't worry about it."  
They finished their meal, and then decided to get out of the house. It was cluttered with boxes, paper sacks, plates, presents, ribbons, bows . . . it was a pigsty.  
So Sirius had grabbed his keys (not wanting to clean the mess up at the moment), and announced that they were going to Diagon Alley for some more fun.  
"It's sort of a pity that that's the only real place we can go that's magical in this town," Remus said, "Unless you want to stand on Platform 9 ¾, or visit the Ministry of Magic."  
  
Diagon Alley was just how they had left it a week ago. Crowded, the snow still magically falling. They made their way to the end of the street, then doubled back, looking at the stores for anything that would interest all of them. But they had looked at most of this last weekend, and all four boys seemed terribly bored.  
Mr. Ollivander's store was coming into focus, and Sirius found himself staring at it in interest. He remembered what the old man had said to him years ago, about how he thought that the wand he had purchased couldn't have worked for him.  
"Only someone of a brave and loyal heart could truthfully hold it in their hands. Unicorn hair is very pure in spirit. That is why I believed it wouldn't work for you, Mr. Black."  
"Hey, guys," he said, running in front of them towards the shop, "I'll be back in a minute. Meet me at the Quidditch shop, all right?"  
The three boys really didn't any other choice, but to nod and let him enter the store.  
It was still musty and filled with dust that swirled in the air above Sirius's head. The boxes of wands stood in tall piles and touched the ceiling. One string of lights hung from the corners of the wall, and blinked different colors.  
"Er . . . Mr. Ollivander?" he said uncertain to the vacant room.  
He probably wasn't here. It was Christmas, wasn't it? What sort of mental case would be working full time by himself on Christmas?  
But sure enough, Mr. Ollivander entered from a back room, untouched by age. He was exactly the way that he had been two years ago when Sirius had come with Remus.  
"Ah, Mr. Black," Mr. Ollivander exclaimed, seeing Sirius standing in his store once again, "I knew it. I told you that that couldn't be the right wand for you. And now, seven years after you bought it, it hasn't done you justice, has it?"  
"Why do you think that it wouldn't work for me?" Sirius asked. It was more of a demand or an order, and Mr. Ollivander looked very surprised.  
"Well, I thought that it would be obvious," he said, and then headed for the back room.  
"What? What would be obvious?" Sirius demanded of him, and the old man turned around to look at him increduously.  
"I know every wand I've sold," Mr. Ollivander said, "And I know every person that I have sold them to. I see you, Mr. Black. And I wonder to myself, why would a unicorn hair . . . which is truly pure is spirit . . . choose to work for a boy that is being pulled two ways? Down two separate paths?"  
"What?" Sirius remembered now what James had said about him being off of his rocker. He had to be. He wasn't being pulled anywhere. He led himself wherever he damn well pleased. . .  
"Mr. Black," Mr. Ollivander continued, "Seven years ago, how did you think your life would turn out?"  
Sirius blinked. What? What was he going on about?  
"Well, I thought that it would be like my parents told me," he said, not knowing to trust him or not, "I'd be in Slytherin, I'd marry someone from Slytherin, have children, and they'd . . . "  
"Go to Slytherin," Mr. Ollivander finished for him, and then nodded, "Curious."  
"What's curious?"  
Mr. Ollivader smiled, and then said, "And yet your future holds greater things than what your parents wanted for you. I see that you have made friends with the 'wrong sort,' and you are loyal to them, are you not?"  
"Of course I am," Sirius said.  
"Well, then you have answered your own question," Mr. Ollivander said, "Two paths. Two separate lives. We all have fates, Mr. Black. It is up to us to choose if we wish to acknowledge that fate and accept the outcome, or veer in a different direction and hope for the best. You are torn between these two. I can see it in your eyes, Mr. Black."  
Sirius blinked, and then stared at him. Who was this man? How did he know everything about him? How did he understand this?  
"Now, if you don't mind asking, what did you come in here for?" Mr. Ollivander continued like nothing had happened, "If you weren't looking for a new wand . . . "  
"I better get going," Sirius said quickly, and let himself out of the door.  
  
That night, the four boys sat on the worn couch, watching a Christmas T.V. special on one of the local channels. James thought it was very funny how the people in the screen wouldn't react to what he was saying to them, and other nonmagical things about this device.  
Sirius had been very quiet since he had left Ollivanders. Remus had tried to get him to talk about it, but there had been no such luck. He had sat next to him, just in case he wanted to talk about it in the middle of the movie, but he had been stubborn and had kept silent through the entire film, unless James made a comment that made him laugh.  
It was the closest thing to a good memory that they would have for a long time. Years from now, the four of them would look back on that early morning, when they were all smiling and eating together, and feel the warmth of the snowy day again. They were not children anymore, all of them realized that now.  
And it was that night that the world fell apart, from right underneath their feet. And nothing would ever be the same. All of their petty little arguments about who would win the Quidditch Cup, every jealous thought that Sirius had had about Lily, every worry of James would look miniscule to what they were about to encounter. 


	48. Chapter 47: The Nightmare Begins

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to all readers under 13: And, as most of you have probably suspected, the older these four grow, the darker the story is going to get. So, remember that my rating is PG-13, and this chapter is not suitable for anyone under 13 because of scary moments, and death.)  
  
(Blooper alert: I can't believe I did this one! But thanks to Day Star of Twilight for pointing it out. They're seventeen, therefore they are not underage wizards any longer. I was under the impression that they weren't allowed to use magic until they left school, but after rereading about Fred and George in OotP, I realize that you're right. I goofed. Yes, they are aloud to use magic. Thanks, Day Star.)  
  
As they climbed into bed, Remus took the mattress once again, and Sirius had taken the floor in dog form. Remus knew that he was luckier than others in the world. He hadn't felt the wolf inside of him for almost a year. Well, of course the wolf was always there, but the wolf couldn't hurt him anymore.  
  
"You awake?"  
  
Remus turned around to face James. His hair was mussed, and he was dressed in his Muggle clothes. He was holding Sirius's keys. Remus hadn't even heard him get up. He yawned, and sat up.  
  
"Yeah," he said, "Where are you going?"  
  
"For a walk," James said, "Decided to see the city at night. You want to come?"  
  
"Sure," Remus stood, and then walked into Sirius's room, "I'll be right out. I've got to get dressed."  
  
The two boys stepped outside of the building, and into the drizzled streets of London. Snow covered the ground, but the sidewalks were shoveled, and they had no problem walking on the pavement and down the block to the streetlight.  
  
Muggles stood on every corner, it seemed like, singing carols and songs quietly. Chestnuts were being sold on the street, and Christmas trees were lit in every single house.  
  
"It is sort of odd," Remus said, "How there are two worlds in one. I mean, those Muggles over there have no idea that there's such a thing as Voldemort, as Dark Magic, as Death Eaters. Let alone Hogwarts, Diagon Alley . . . they don't know anything."  
  
"And they're happier for it," James said, as they crossed a street, "Sometimes I envy them. Sometimes I just wish I could . . ."  
  
"You could what?" Remus asked.  
  
James sighed, and his breath came out cold in the icy air, "I don't know . . . become one of them? Just run away and hide."  
  
"Good luck," Remus muttered, and they jumped up on the curb.  
  
"You missing your family?" James asked.  
  
"Not really," he replied truthfully, "They're probably having a romantic night right now. Just the thought of it makes me sick."  
  
James laughed, and nodded, "Yeah, I know."  
  
"You still looking into Quidditch when you graduate?" Remus asked.  
  
James shrugged, and didn't answer. They turned a corner.  
  
"You still looking into teaching?"  
  
Remus nodded, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets, "All I've been thinking about lately. I was hoping that Dumbledore could give me a job."  
  
"Have you asked him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He has better things on his mind," Remus said.  
  
James nodded in agreement, and then looked around. The smell of the chestnuts were in their noses. The streetlights beat down upon them as James looked toward the park that was silent and dark on the other side of the busy street.  
  
"Are you wanting to get mugged?" Remus asked as James turned toward it.  
  
But James kept looking at it. He was squinting, as if trying to make something out in the blackness that surrounded the trees.  
  
"What is it?" Remus asked, following his gaze.  
  
"There are people in there," James pointed his finger, "Look. They're all walking to the same place."  
  
"What? I don't see . . ." Remus looked closer, and then saw the sight that James was referring to. At least ten grown men, cloaked in black and disguising their faces behind masks, were entering the park, holding their arms.  
  
"Come on," James said, walking in the opposite direction. But Remus grabbed his arm, and tugged him back.  
  
"No, this way," Remus said, keeping his voice at a whisper. Then they crossed the street, and dove into the darkness after the hooded men.  
  
James wanted to leave. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be in the park . . . they were Death Eaters, he knew it. They wanted to kill him, and he was just walking straight into their trap.  
  
But Remus wouldn't let go of his arm. They crawled into the bushes as the sidewalk opened into a circle of pavement, and the men stood side by side on the edge of the grass. In the middle was a taller figure, his face hidden from view. He did not have a mask on to disguise his face. He did not fear anyone.  
  
He was all powerful.  
  
"My Lord," one of the voices came from the other side of the circle, "Are you sure that it is safe for us to meet in such a public place?"  
  
"You underestimate me," the man in the middle said. His voice was high, raspy. James shuddered when he heard it, "It is Christmas. No Muggle or wizard would be out this late on the most wonderful night of the year."  
  
There was a little laughing from behind the masks. But it wasn't really a laugh. More of a jeer.  
  
"Silence," the voice hissed, "I have called you all here tonight, my most trusted followers, to know the names of the recruits."  
  
"The recruits, my Lord," another voice came, "Well, you see . . . we don't exactly have the names of the recruits."  
  
The leader turned around, and stared at the Death Eater that had spoken. But he didn't say a word. He raised his wand, and pointed it straight at his head.  
  
"Crucio," he snarled.  
  
The man fell to the ground, convulsing in agony. All of his limbs were shaking, his eyes rolled back in his head. He screamed out in pain, and Remus turned away. He felt sick to his stomach.  
  
"Get up," the man ordered, and waved his wand again. The man, shaking from head to toe, forced himself to his feet.  
  
James couldn't feel himself breathing. He knew who this monster was. He had feared him through most of his life. He was the reason for his sister's death. He was the reason for his father being who he was.  
  
It was Lord Voldemort.  
  
"And give me your excuse," Voldemort snarled at the weakening man, "Why do you not have those recruit's names?"  
  
"We sent a spy to shadow Alastor Moody," he tried to explain, but his teeth were still chattering, "But they knew we were coming. They never said the names out loud. And then they burnt the paper on which the names were written."  
  
"Then why didn't you kill him and pry the paper from his dead fingers," Voldemort snarled, drawing closer to the man. The statement was more of a demand than a question, "Do you think that it matters to me if that washed up Auror is killed?"  
  
"He is close to Dumbledore, and . . ."  
  
"THAT IS EXACTLY WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM!" he bellowed, and pointed his wand right at the man's mask, "YOU INSOLENT FOOL! WE HAVE FIVE MORE MONTHS UNTIL THE RECRUITS ARE SENT TO THEIR HEADQUARTERS! TIME IS RUNNING OUT!"  
  
"I am sorry, master!" the man pleaded. Voldemort was close enough for the Death Eater to smell his breath.  
  
"This is what happened last year," Voldemort hissed from behind his hood, "This is exactly what happened last year. I put YOU in charge of finding the names of the recruits, and what do you do? You bring me the list of the previous year!"  
  
"But that was helpful, wasn't it?" the man said, not very sure that it was.  
  
"We already knew about Sturgis Podmore," he growled, "No, it was useless. And I am tiring of you and your insolence!"  
  
Voldemort raised his wand, and the man fell to his knees, holding his hands together in prayer.  
  
"Oh, please, Master," he begged, "Oh please don't kill me! I swear, I will never disappoint you again."  
  
"You're right," the Dark Lord pointed his wand at the man's head, "You won't."  
  
And then James saw the sight that would stay with him for the rest of his life. That man, the one that the world feared, the one that thousands had given their life to, whispered one spell. That's all it took. Just two words in a moment to show how truly evil he was.  
  
"Aveda Kedavera."  
  
A green light flashed in front of Remus's and James's eyes, and they held a hand over their faces. But James could still see the green hit the groveling man square in the chest, and then fly out of his back. If he could have seen his face, he would have seen one of a blank, fearing expression. Like Wendy's.  
  
There was no scream. There was no last cry for mercy. There was silence.  
  
And then the green light vanished, and the dead body of the Death Eater lay, sprawled out in front of Voldemort.  
  
James felt himself let out a wail of horror, and Remus slammed his hand over his friend's mouth. But it was too late. Voldemort's head shot in their direction, and they could make out the shadow of his face as his eyes glared at them.  
  
He was just a man. And yet, James felt as if he would die just looking into his eyes.  
  
"Two boys," he hissed to the Death Eaters, "Kill them. They have heard too much."  
  
James and Remus shot out of the bushes, and flew towards the outskirts of the park. They had to get into the streetlight. They had to get to where people could see them. James knew it wouldn't matter. They would kill them no matter where they were. They would kill them.  
  
He was a dead man.  
  
"YOU! STOP!" a Death Eater shouted from behind them, gaining on them.  
  
"Expelliramus!" Remus said, pointing his wand behind him. The Death Eater flew against a tree, and fell to the ground.  
  
"DON'T LOOK THEM IN THE EYES!" Remus shouted as him and James jumped over a bench.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
"AAA!"  
  
Remus stumbled to the ground as pain veered through his entire body. His eyes rolled back in his sockets, and he screamed in pain. He kicked the snow into the air, and it covered him. He arched his back, and hit his head against a tree trunk.  
  
"LUPIN!" James screamed, and stopped in his tracks.  
  
"G-GO!" he cried through his pain, "R-RUN!"  
  
James saw the Death Eaters coming closer. They were trapped. He could make a break for it, but at the cost of his friend's life. He made his choice, and ran in front of Remus, who was still convulsing on the ground behind the bench.  
  
"Something messes with one of us, it messes with all of us," he whispered under his breath, and faced the oncoming murderers, wand pointed at them.  
  
They came to a halt, and stared at him. Then they began to laugh.  
  
"Silence!"  
  
The park went quiet, as the man who had killed the Death Eater parted the crowd of his followers, and stood to stare at James.  
  
James lowered his eyes. He couldn't let them know who he was. He couldn't put his family in danger. He couldn't die. He wouldn't die.  
  
"Ah, you are one of the smarter ones," Voldemort commented, "Now move, before we kill you as well."  
  
James didn't budge, and stared at the ground. He would not let his friends die. He would not let his family die. He would kill this monster first. Even if he himself would have to be killed in the process.  
  
A flash of a memory came back to his mind, and it played itself out on the pavement as he waited for Voldemort to kill him.  
  
"There are things worth fighting for," his father had said.  
  
He felt a new rage boil inside him, and stared Voldemort in the eyes again.  
  
But now Voldemort wasn't looking at him. He was staring behind him, his expression one of fear.  
  
"Albus is coming," he hissed to his followers, "We leave."  
  
"But they know too much, my Lord!" one of the Death Eaters protested.  
  
"We have their names," he snarled, "That one is Lupin, as this boy so kindly pointed out in his screaming," he looked back to James, "And . . ."  
  
James felt his head sear with pain. All of his memories spilled out in front of his eyes. His first birthday, meeting Sirius, Wendy telling him her bedtime story, seeing Lily for the first time . . .  
  
"AARRGGH!" he fell to the ground, holding his head. He wanted to tear his mind out. Stop the pain! Stop the pain!  
  
And then it stopped.  
  
He looked back at Voldemort, gasping and trying to get his bearings. Voldemort was smiling.  
  
"And that one is Potter's boy," he sneered, "Like taking after your father, hey?"  
  
"Let's kill them now!"  
  
"We have no time to," he said, "Let them sit a while on what they have heard. We know their names," he stared at James again, but this time in curiosity or possible in interest at this boy with courage, "Let our little heroes think about what damage they could have caused."  
  
And then they were gone. All of them.  
  
Remus sat up, in a daze. He was still shaking uncontrollably, and his face was tightened.  
  
"I t-told y-you not to l-look in their eyes," he stammered, "Haven't y-you ever h-heard of Le-Legilimency?" Each word was a trial to speak.  
  
Footsteps. Footsteps on the other side of them. Many of them.  
  
And then he saw them appear from the midst of the snow. Like ghosts from the alleyway, they came.  
  
Five of them, all walking in a line, wands out, and faces of determination. In the middle, was Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"OVER HERE!" James screamed, almost crying. His head still ached from the pain.  
  
Dumbledore heard his voice, and his eyes grew larger.  
  
They ran forward, past the street, cloaks billowing from behind. A large black man with a bald head stumbled to Remus, who had fallen back into the snow and was trying to get a hold of himself.  
  
James ran to Dumbledore, who was staring at him in surpirse.  
  
"What are you doing here, James?" he said sternly. All merriness in his voice was gone. Professor McGonagall appeared from behind him, horrorstruck as she stared at Remus on the ground.  
  
"They know our names!" James screamed, almost hysterical, "They're going to kill us! They . . . "  
  
"Calm down, James," he said, "Now what did you hear?"  
  
"They . . . they all met over there," he pointed to the circle, "And then Voldemort . . . "  
  
"Voldemort?" a voice came from behind them. It was Frank Longbottom, holding his wand out to the darkness.  
  
"Voldemort was here?" Dumbledore asked, calmer than the rest.  
  
"Yes," James said, "And he . . . he killed someone because he didn't have the names of some recruits. Five recruits. And then he saw that we were here . . . and they tried to kill Remus . . . and now they know our names . . ."  
  
"What were you doing here in the first place?" Frank asked, walking over to flank Dumbledore's other shoulder.  
  
"We w-were t-taking a w-walk," Remus said from behind James. He was trying to support himself on his helper's shoulder as he shakily stood, "And t- then . . . w-we saw them all . . ."  
  
"Minerva, take these two back to Hogwarts," Dumbledore interrupted, and Professor McGonagall grabbed James, and ushered for the man to help Remus to walk out of the park, "Frank, I want you to send owls to Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Lily Evans."  
  
"No, Albus," Professor McGonagall protested, stopping in the middle of her tracks halfway to the sidewalk, "It isn't time yet."  
  
"If we don't warn them, then they will have no time left at all," Dumbledore said, turning to her, "They are not children anymore, Minerva. We cannot protect them for much longer," then he turned back towards Frank, and added, "Straight away. Tell them to meet us there. It is urgent."  
  
James, as if in a dream, followed his shaking friend and the two adults out of the park, and to an alleyway, where an old pizza box sat in the corner of a dumpster.  
  
"Touch it," Professor McGonagall instructed the two boys.  
  
And they were gone. The alleyway was quiet again, and no Muggle that had been passing would have known that anything had happened.  
  
Muggles were the lucky ones. They knew nothing. Ignorance surrounded them, and they were the happier for it. 


	49. Chapter 48: The Five Recruits

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: Okay, this is where all fanfics go in different directions, and people have their own thoughts on what exactly happened after they graduated Hogwarts. I have studied the canon, thought about it long and hard, and came up with the rest of the book the way it is. From here on out, there may be differences between what happened in reality (or in the canon to be released at a later date), what all of the different readers think, and what I came up with. Please bear with me if you feel as if something isn't as you thought it would be. (: )  
  
(Blooper alerts: Thanks to Feronia for this one. Yes, I have been spelling the "Killing Curse" wrong. It's really spelled Avada Kedevra, not Avada Kedevera. Thanks again, Feronia. Also, as "jan" pointed out, the motorcycle speeds are not realistic (not to mention backwards). I have no clue about vehicles, so please excuse my stupidity while I change Sirius's motorbike statistics.)  
  
It was only an hour later that the five called students were sitting in a row of chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. Lily was still in her pajamas, with a robe tied around her. James would have paid more attention to her if he hadn't been preoccupied with what had happened in the park. Remus sat next to Lily. He had stopped shaking a long time ago. The two of them (James and Remus) had been the first to arrive, and had waited while Lily had taken her time walking from Gryffindor Tower to Dumbledore's office.  
  
Peter and Sirius had walked in a half an hour after the incident. They were both dressed in their wizarding robes, and carrying their wands, as if someone was going to attack them at any time.  
  
Sirius stared at James and Remus, eyes worried. Remus tried to give him a reassuring smile, but James didn't even look at him. James hadn't looked at anyone since the park.  
  
Prongs had left again, and a shell of this angered and scared boy reigned.  
  
"Would you care to explain what happened?" Sirius asked as he took a seat next to James. Peter pulled up a chair, and sat down on the other side of Sirius.  
  
James shook his head,"It's my fault they know your name."  
  
"Who's name?"  
  
Remus sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, "Prongs, please don't do this right now."  
  
"It's my fault," James said.  
  
"If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now," he retorted.  
  
James fell silent again, and then Sirius gave a look to both boys. Lily hadn't dared to speak up. She was looking from the shaken body of Remus to the hallowed one of James. She had no idea what had happened.  
  
And then, the door opened.  
  
The five of them turned around in their seats to face Dumbledore. He was looking worn, beaten . . . determined. The glint in his eye was gone.  
  
Sirius was about to speak up, when he noticed that the Headmaster wasn't alone. Frank Longbottom's brown hair could be seen from behind him.  
  
And then, they entered. All of them. Following Dumbledore to the desk, and then flanking him like guards on either side. Frank Longbottom, Alice Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, the black man that had returned with them, the five students that had disappeared last year, Sturgis Podmore, and finally . . .  
  
Next to a witch that James had never seen before, stood his father.  
  
Sirius scanned the crowd for the man that they had seen at the Leaky Cauldron. He wasn't there. Well, then this couldn't be all of them. There had to be more. There had to be a whole army of them. They weren't doomed. They weren't outnumbered. These were just his most trusted members.  
  
Dumbledore seated himself in his chair, and folded his hands. He looked to each of the five students seriously, and then began to speak a well rehearsed speech.  
  
"What happened tonight," he said, "Was just one instance in many that has occurred over the course of these past years. Thousands of people have died like the man you saw tonight, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Potter. And thousands of people have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They usually have not lived to tell the tale."  
  
"He said that he was coming back for us," James said quietly, "They know our names. They know our families."  
  
Mr. Potter glanced over to his son, sitting in front of Dumbledore. But before James could see, he turned away again.  
  
"That is why we have decided to tell you about the five recruits tonight," he said, "To quickly prepare you for what is to come. I am guessing that you have found out who these five are?"  
  
If they did know, they didn't seem to want to acknowledge it. Remus had guessed. James was sure of who it was.  
  
"Every year, we invite five students that we have watched throughout their seven years of schooling. These five are chosen for their bravery, skill, cleverness, loyalty, and, of course," he looked at the four boys, "friendship.  
  
"Every year we invite these five into my office, and give them an offer," Dumbledore said.  
  
"What sort of an offer?" Lily asked.  
  
Dumbledore looked at her, and continued, "An offer that is quenching for the brave, and deadly for the weak. We invite them to join us."  
  
He waved his hand at the crowd behind him, and the five of them looked in awe at the Aurors.  
  
"We invite them to become a part of the Order of the Phoenix," he said, "Surely by now you know who we are. What, with all of the publicity the Daily Prophet gives us."  
  
"Not to mention Michael's obituary," one of the unknown members huffed behind him.  
  
"That is enough, Elphias," Dumbledore raised one hand to quiet him, and then turned back to the students, "Lily, we chose you for your intelligence, patience, and one of the best talents for dueling that I have ever encountered."  
  
Lily's face turned the color of her hair, and she tried to hide her expression behind her hands.  
  
Dumbledore looked to Remus, "And you, for your courage and strength to do whatever your mind sets itself to do. You battled your own monsters, and now we must ask you to battle them once more."  
  
Then, he looked to James, who was glaring at his father, "And James, for your speed, cleverness, and loyalty. I know that you would die for your friends, as you have shown me tonight. You were willing to give your life for another, even if the fight was futile. You defied Voldemort, Mr. Potter. And you lived to tell the tale.  
  
"And Sirius Black," he said, and Sirius came to attention. This would be a first that Dumbledore would say anything positive about him. He wanted to hear every word of it.  
  
"My, my, weren't you a surprise to all of us," Dumbledore said, his eyes glinting again, "I knew from the moment that the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor that there had to be more to you than what meets the eye. And there is. We have chosen you for your fire. For your willingness to do what is right, and to fight a good fight."  
  
"And finally, Peter Pettigrew," Peter jumped, "We have also chosen you for your loyalty. For seven years, you have never said a wrong word to any of your friends, even if sometimes you feel as if you should. You stand by their side with pride, and I hope that you shall also stand by mine with the same courage."  
  
And then he sat back in his chair, and sighed, "You are the five recruits," he said, "You are the five students that we have decided to draw into this war. Usually, we wait until the end of the year. Yet after what happened tonight, it is vital that you know exactly what awaits you outside of these castle doors. Especially you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin.  
  
"The truth is, that we cannot protect you outside of Hogwarts or the Order," he continued, "If you join, then we can at least tell you when you are in danger. We have many spies working as Death Eaters, and they alert us when one of our own is going to be pursued. Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin will have to be hid if they do not decide to join. At least for a while. You are right, James. He does know your names. We will have to set up a secret location for you two if you refuse our offer."  
  
"What would we have to do if we did take your offer?" Remus asked.  
  
Dumbledore looked at Remus, and then the twinkle in his eye returned, "Well, Remus, you will have to give up your lives. You will have to swear allegiance to the Order, and you two will have to move into the Headquarters for a while until we can find you new homes."  
  
He pointed to James and Remus.  
  
"And you are going to stick our necks out for us to keep us safe?" Sirius said, disdainfully, "All of you . . . even if we didn't join your Order, are going to risk your lives for our hides?"  
  
"We do not let the innocent die," Dumbledore said, "Only the guilty."  
  
"Very biblical," Sirius commented, "But I'm still not getting this. What do we have to do if we join, other than give up everything that we own?"  
  
"You will do as Albus tells you to do," Frank said from behind him, "You will be expected to protect the world as we knew it seven years ago."  
  
James knew that they didn't have to force this propaganda down Sirius's throat. Sirius had told him and the others that he was looking into joining the Order anyway. Now he was leading them on, and they were sure that he would not heed to their word.  
  
"You do not need to answer this question now," Dumbledore said, "You still have your whole second term to decide. We do not expect any of you to give your word to us tonight. We would not take it seriously. This is an offer that you all need to think about long and hard. But please, do not tell your families or your friends about anything that you witnessed or heard tonight. It is vital that we keep the names of the recruits, and the names of the members as secret as we can."  
  
"What about our families?" James asked, "What about them? Aren't they in danger, too?"  
  
Mr. Potter tensed, and gritted his teeth.  
  
"Yes, James," Professor McGonagall said blankly, "They will be in danger as well. But it is a risk that you must be willing to take."  
  
"A risk?" James stood, and stared at his two teachers, "A RISK? More of a death sentence!" he turned to the small group of people huddled behind his desk, "This is all of you, isn't it?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"This is the entire Order, standing right here," he said, turning back to his friends.  
  
"Alastor Moody couldn't make it tonight," Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
"One person doesn't make that much of a difference," James spat back, and Dumbledore looked at him, surprised at such a reaction.  
  
"Well, it seems you have a bit more to learn before Graduation, Mr. Potter," he said.  
  
"One person doesn't change the fact that you are outnumbered! There were as many of you as there were Death Eaters in the park, and those were just Voldemort's trusted advisors! You're all dead men! Have you not been reading the papers?"  
  
"You saved Mr. Lupin's life tonight," Dumbledore said gently, "When you thought that you too would die in the process. Did that stop you from doing the right thing?"  
  
"And I got us killed," James said, "I learned my lesson. I'm never going to be that stupid again," he turned to look at his father, who was trying to avoid his gaze. James felt anger well up in his heart. He had heard his voice at the park. What he had said. The one time when he had taken his advice, he had put not only himself, but Remus, and Remus's father and mother on the blacklist.  
  
"You're right, Dad," he said coldly, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair, "There ARE things worth fighting for. And pride isn't one of them."  
  
He then turned, and walked to the door without another word. Dumbledore looked sadly behind him, but didn't say a word.  
  
Sirius got up out of his chair, and ran to follow him.  
  
"Don't, Sirius," Dumbledore said sharply. Sirius turned, and stared at Dumbledore, "Let him be alone for a while. He's had a hard night."  
  
But Sirius shook his head slowly, looked to Mr. Potter, and then ran down the staircase leading to the corridor.  
  
"Well, that only leaves three," Frank sighed, taking a seat in Sirius's vacant spot.  
  
"No," Dumbledore said, "No, it does not."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
The Order turned to look at Remus, who had grown his color back in his cheeks. He looked straight at the old Headmaster, and then said, "I know that you said you wouldn't take us seriously if we told you our answer tonight. But I believe that I feel confident enough to tell you right now."  
  
"And what are you going to do, Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Lily and Peter looked to him, as if wondering the same thing themselves. He took a breath, and then stood.  
  
He outstretched his hand to the old wizard, and said quietly, "I want to do the right thing."  
  
Dumbledore's glint returned, and the bony fingers grabbed Remus's strengthened hand, "And so you shall, Remus. So you shall," he said quietly.  
  
"James! Just . . . just wait up."  
  
"Leave me alone, Sirius," he shouted over his shoulder, and continued walking down the corridor.  
  
"No, James! I'm NOT going to leave you alone!"  
  
Arms spun him around, and he came face to face with his old friend that he had known for seven years. God, how Sirius had grown. He wasn't that first year that he had met in the train compartment. He was a warrior. He had a fire in his heart that was wanting to be released.  
  
He was a Black.  
  
Dumbledore had been right about him.  
  
He would make a perfect addition to the Order.  
  
"Now you listen to me," he said, "I'm not sure what happened in that park, but I know that you stayed behind for Remus. And that's why they want you."  
  
"Get off of me."  
  
"No, I'm not letting you go until you hear me out. I'm not letting you walk back up to your room to sulk about this," Sirius looked at James, who had a cold and hard expression on his face, "Whatever happened to you?"  
  
"Get off."  
  
"James, remember when we used to talk about fighting Voldemort when we were younger?" he said, almost pleading with him. His grip was so hard on his shoulders. James couldn't move. Sirius had always been stronger than him.  
  
"Let go of me," James snarled, trying to tug himself away. But there was no chance that he was going to lose Sirius's grip. Or his stare. His eyes were hollow.  
  
"No, James, I'm not," he said, "Do you remember? When we were younger? And all you wanted to do was defend your family? To stay alive?"  
  
"AND THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!" James cried, struggling even harder, "THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!"  
  
"NO! THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" Sirius shouted back, louder than James. His voice echoed down the hall, "YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY! YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM IT! IT SCARES YOU!"  
  
"Let go of me, Black," James ordered, but Sirius didn't.  
  
"THINK OF LILY! THINK OF YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER!"  
  
"That's exactly who I am thinking about!" James shouted back, "I'm not going to be like HIM! I'm not going to endanger Lily or you or Remus or Peter for my stupidity again!"  
  
"It wasn't stupidity!" Sirius barked, "It was courage!"  
  
"And that's where you've always been wrong," James glared. He was angrier than he had ever been in his life. He felt that he had so much emotion in him that he would just burst out and explode. He wanted to get away from Sirius. He wanted to run and run and never look back . . .  
  
"The world is dying, James," Sirius said very sternly now. His face was cold, and his fingers dug into James's shoulders, "And it's our responsibility to try to save it."  
  
"Like you said, Sirius," James said, "What are we going to do? Dungbomb them to death?"  
  
"I don't know," Sirius said, "But whatever it is, whatever happens, at least we would have tried."  
  
"Get off of me now," James retorted, his face set, "I'm giving you three seconds to get your hands off of me, and then I'm going to make you."  
  
"James, please," Sirius said.  
  
"One."  
  
"They need you, James."  
  
"Two."  
  
"I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO THIS TIME, JAMES!"  
  
And in a blink of an eye, James had taken out his wand, and had pointed it at Sirius, "Expelliramus!"  
  
Sirius flew into the air, and fell with a thump on the floor. He slid into the corner, and held his arm. He stared back at James, in a daze. His best friend had just hit him! James Potter had just hit him!  
  
James looked as equally as shocked.  
  
"Padfoot . . ." he started, but Sirius glared, and shook his head. He stood up, groaning and still holding his arm.  
  
"Don't," he said, "Just . . . don't."  
  
He turned around, and walked back down the corridor towards the staircase leading to the Order. James felt his grip on his wand weaken as Sirius shook his arm, and ran his fingers through his longer hair.  
  
"You know," he said, turning around at the last second, "Anyone can say that they're something special when the stakes are low. But it's times like these when you find out who people really are."  
  
And then, without another word, Sirius climbed the stairs to rejoin the others and Dumbledore. 


	50. Chapter 49: Decide

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The four remaining recruits that had not pledged their loyalty to Dumbledore had exactly until the last day of school to give them their answer. On top of this, they had their N.E.W.T.'s, the obligation to go with Remus every month to the Shrieking Shack, and of course, the impending Graduation Dance and Graduation altogether.  
N.E.W.T.'s seemed so insignificant in the big scheme of things anymore. They would already have a job lined up for them if they decided to go with Dumbledore's offer. If not, then most of them would be going into hiding. What was the point of earning N.E.W.T.'s if you didn't need them? None of them were going to live the lives that they had thought they would a few days ago. Their entire existence and purpose for living changed that night that they had been invited to join the doomed souls of the Order.  
Peter and Lily told Sirius that next morning that Remus was willing to go through with it. Sirius had been sort of surprised. He had always thought that if any of them never joined the Order, it would be Remus. After all, he was a . . . well, a werewolf.  
He would have never believed James's reaction. If someone had told him a year prior to the present that his friend would have rejected the offer to go kill off Voldemort, he would have thought you to be nutters. No one else seemed to understand James's refusal either.  
"He looked like someone I've never seen before," Sirius told his two remaining friends at lunch on the first day back to school. James had seated himself with Lily on the other end of the Gryffindor table, and wouldn't look at the three of them.  
"I know," Remus said, "He's just like he was after his sister died. I thought we had him back."  
"He hit me," Sirius said darkly, digging into his food.  
"What?" Peter squeaked, "He hit you?"  
As Sirius reached for a roll in the middle of the table, his sleeve fell to his elbow, unveiling a large purple and black bruise covering his forearm.  
"Did he do that?" Remus asked quietly.  
Sirius looked to what the two of them were gawking at, and quickly covered it. He didn't answer, and bit into the roll. And he didn't look too happy. He glared back at James and Lily.  
"I was thinking," Peter said, tapping his fingers on the table, "About Dumbledore's offer?"  
"Yeah?" Sirius said through a mouthful of bread.  
"And I was wondering what you two were going to do about it," he said, "Remus has already said yes. And I was thinking it may be an adventure . . . "  
"I'm doing it," Sirius said quickly.  
"You are sure?" Remus asked.  
"Yeah," Sirius said, grabbing for another roll, "Of course I am."  
"That Longbottom man didn't think you would," Peter said, "He was sure that you wouldn't."  
"Well, he's wrong, isn't he?" Sirius said gruffly.  
Remus turned to look at their distant friend, and then said quietly, "Do you think that James will come around?"  
  
"If Lily can talk him into it, I bet he will," Sirius growled.  
Remus scowled, and Sirius sighed, "No, I don't think that he's going to come around."  
"Why?" Peter asked.  
"Reasons," Sirius muttered, and didn't elaborate on his answer.  
  
"Would you like to talk about it?" Lily asked, toying with her food. James hadn't touched his lunch. He was sitting there, arms folded on the table, looking at his hands. He hadn't said a word.  
"James?" she said hopefully.  
"No, I wouldn't like to talk about it," he replied.  
"It wasn't your fault, James," Lily said, "There's no way that you could have known about Legilimency."  
"I should have known about it," James said, his eyes shooting up to look her in the face, "I should have known about what he was capable of. I should have just grabbed Remus and ran in the opposite direction when I saw them. I should have . . ."  
"You saved his life, James," Lily cut him off, and then James was quiet again, "If it weren't for you, they would have killed him."  
"He told me not to look them in the eyes," James said.  
Lily sighed, and then looked down at her plate again. She poised her fork on her plate, and then said quietly, "I've been thinking about what Dumbledore told us."  
"And what are you going to do?"  
"I don't know," Lily said, "I thought maybe we could discuss it together."  
"Why."  
"Well," Lily said, "Because I really do like you James. And I think that maybe we should possibly find out what the other person is doing before making a decision on our own."  
James didn't respond, but kept staring at her. What was she hinting at?  
"What are you talking about?" he asked.  
"And I was thinking that maybe you should reconsider your decision," she continued on on top of him.  
"Why."  
"James, everyone's worried about you," Lily said, setting her fork down, "Sirius, Remus, and Peter . . . just look at them. They think you've lost it."  
"They don't understand," James mumbled.  
"And I'm starting to think so, too," she said, worried, "You won't even talk to Sirius anymore."  
James didn't speak. He didn't want to start pouring out his emotions to anyone. He just wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to think about Dumbledore or the Order or his father.  
He hated his father now.  
"I'm not going to do it," he said, "I thought I made that clear that night."  
"Remus has already decided to," Lily said, and James's stature fell, "And Sirius told me last night that he wants you to know that he's going through with it, too."  
"You're talking to Sirius all of a sudden?" James asked.  
"He's worried about you," Lily protested, "They're all worried about you."  
"As you've told me before," James snarled.  
"For God's sake, James," Lily said, "You're not alone. We're in the same boat as you."  
"Is your sister dead? Were you at the park? Is Voldemort out to kill you?" he asked, "No, he's not. So don't you say that you're in the same boat as I am."  
"I'm joining the Order," Lily said quickly, and then stood up, "I said it. I'm joining. Thought you'd like to know."  
And then she walked away from him, and out of the Great Hall. James clenched his fists, and swallowed hard.  
He looked down the table to where his three friends were quietly talking to each other. Contemplating for a moment, he mussed his hair, picked up his food, and felt his legs walking towards where they were seated.  
Remus was the first one to spot him, and he looked very taken aback. Sirius turned around, and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, and closed it.  
"Mind if I join you?" James asked quietly.  
Remus shrugged, and Peter continued to look down at his food. Sirius turned back in his seat, and picked up another roll.  
But Remus could see a small smile escape from his lips.  
  
The full moon shone brightly on all four of them as they emerged from the Whomping Willow. They had lost the map, and therefore it wasn't safe to go wandering around Hogwarts anymore. They were stuck outside.  
And they had all decided to head into the Forbidden Forest.  
As they crossed the grounds to the foreboding trees across from them. Yet none of them were really there that night. Their heads were off in another world.  
They were all contemplating what they were going to do in the next semester. This meant, for Moony, trying to get good enough N.E.W.T.'s so that he could make a decent living without the Order's help. He had given everything up . . . all of his dreams of becoming a teacher . . . for Dumbledore. He wanted to do the right thing. He knew that he couldn't live with himself if he didn't.  
Padfoot was debating on whether or not to move. He wanted to be part of the Order, and therefore the best way to do that was to devote his services to them full time. This meant them giving him room and board. What was he to do after he graduated? What if they were all killed off?  
Wormtail was remembering what Dumbledore had said to him. That he had been a loyal friend. And he was also contemplating if his choice had been the right decision. Voldemort was very powerful. And he had killed many without a second thought.  
Wormtail shuddered.  
And finally, Prongs. Prongs was going over and over in his head the decision that he should make.  
I have to protect myself.  
You have to protect your friends, his conscience told him.  
I'll just kill them if I join, he argued.  
Lily's joining.  
That was right. Lily was joining. She had tried to tell him, but it had come so hard for her. And she said that she liked him? What exactly did that whole conversation mean?  
The four of them walked into the Forest, past Hagrid's hut, and onto a trail, steering far away from the open Centaur Field.  
The stag was trailing behind, and not taking his spot on the side of Moony. Padfoot barked, and Prongs caught up with them.  
Five more full moons before they graduated. Five more adventures to remember for the rest of their lives. Five more, and none of them were enjoying it.  
  
Quidditch started up again in February, and James felt the weight from his shoulders lighten a little. It was like he could escape all of his problems with a broomstick and the sky above him.  
And now that he was captain, he felt a new sort of power.  
At least this aspect of his life he could control.  
"All right, gather around," James told the team as they got ready for their first practice after the break. Most of them were new, and had replaced the graduated members that had gone on to bigger and better things.  
"Today, we're going to be playing a scrimmage, with no Bludgers or a Snitch."  
"No Bludgers?" Greasings exclaimed, "Then what are we supposed to do?"  
"I'm going to referee," he said, "The six of you are splitting into two teams. Two of you are Chasers, the third is a Keeper. This teaches teamwork, concentration, and it will give most of you a chance to do something that you've never done before."  
They didn't argue, since James was known for being one of the best Quidditch players that Hogwarts had ever seen. But a second year, named Jacob Brimmings, had joined the team, and he was said to be the next Potter on a broomstick. He was playing Chaser for their team this year, and James knew that this rookie would give them some sort of advantage over Slytherin, who had also welcomed a large and oafish Keeper to their team.  
Sirius and Lily had walked to the Quidditch pitch together that evening to see James in action. Upon arriving, they were happy to see a delighted boy flying in every which way, blowing the whistle at any fouls. He was mussing his hair, and most importantly, smiling.  
Sirius and Lily took a seat in the stands, and watched the team's entire practice. They had their James back, if just for a little while.  
"You love him, don't you?" Sirius said out loud, leaning back in his seat.  
Lily blinked, and stared at him, "What?"  
"You love him," he repeated for her slower, and Lily scoffed.  
"Well, I . . ."  
"Oh, for God's sake, you either do or you don't," Sirius groaned.  
Lily shifted in her seat, and then crossed her legs, "I really don't think that's any of your business."  
Sirius laughed his barking laugh, and then set his feet on the bleacher in front of them, "You'd think I was asking you something important."  
"It depends on how you define love," she said in thought.  
"Oh, please," Sirius groaned again, sitting up, "James is right. You do think too much. Look, Evans, I'm no romantic, but I don't think that it's that hard to define."  
Lily didn't answer his question. She went back to staring at James high in the sky. But her face was one of content. She was smiling as broadly as James. 


	51. Chapter 50: A Night to Remember

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
After the practice, the two of them entered the tent to congratulate James on a practice well done. James was covered in sweat, mussing his hair again, grinning from ear to ear.  
"Thanks," he said, as he tied his shoes.  
"Gotta show those rookies how to do it, hey?" Sirius patted him on the back, and then said, "I've got to take off. Moony wants to study for N.E.W.T.s tonight. I told him that there was no point, but he seems to be in denial. You try getting Moony to get away from his books. It's like pulling teeth!"  
James laughed, and waved goodbye as Sirius strolled out of the tent and back up to the dormitory. Lily sat down beside James, and helped him pack his equipment back into his bag.  
"How come you four have those names for yourselves?" she asked.  
James coughed, "What names?"  
"You know, Moony and Wormtail and Padfoot and Prongs," she said.  
He shrugged casually, "I don't know. We made them up when we were younger. Boys do stupid things for no reason."  
"But there was a reason," Lily said, and then handed him his broom, "I wasn't joking when I told you that I was going to find out what you four have been up to."  
"Hey, are you doing anything tonight?" he interrupted her, stopping in the midst of cleaning up.  
Lily blinked, "What? Well, I was going to study with Remus and Sirius . . . "  
"There's no point if we're going to die anyway, right?" James said, grabbing his bag from her, and stood, "Come on. I want to show you something."  
Lily narrowed her eyes, "Not the Shrieking Shack, I hope."  
"No," James said, and then took his broom in his other hand, "Just meet me out in the common room at midnight. I have a surprise."  
And then he was off, without another word.  
  
Lily and Remus had led Peter and a sleeping Sirius through N.E.W.T. studying next to the fire. James was no where to be found. Around ten, the two boys (dragging Sirius with them) went up to their dormitory room, and shut the door behind them. Lily gathered her things, and set them in her satchel. Then she took the other staircase to the girl's dormitories, where her friends were waiting anxiously to start the evening gossip.  
"You haven't been very talkative lately, Lily," her roommate, Beatrice, had said upon her returning.  
"I'm not going to be here tonight," Lily said, "I'm going downstairs to study."  
"More?" Bea had shaken her head, and the other three girls had giggled.  
"Is it with that Potter boy again?" Sandra asked, jumping into bed.  
"No," Lily said.  
"Every time we see you anymore you're with those boys," Bea accused her, and Lily shrugged.  
"I like them."  
"They're bullying gits," Elise said from her bed.  
"Don't you lie to us, Elise Warren," Sandra said, throwing a pillow at her, "I know how you look at Potter's friend."  
Elise blushed, and Lily laughed, and set her satchel down next to her bed, "Well, I have to get going. Have a good night."  
"Someday maybe you'll stay around for a while and talk to us again," Bea shouted after her as she shut the door behind her.  
"What a fake," Sandra scoffed once Lily was out of earshot, "Going on and on about how wicked those four are, and then turning around and abandoning us."  
"I bet you she talks about us to them," Bea said, "It's not very proper to talk about people behind their backs, the little witch."  
  
Lily had sat on the couch, tapping her fingers on her arm as she crossed them. She looked at the large clock on the wall. 12:03. He was late.  
What if it was a joke? What if he didn't show, and she was stuck waiting at that fireplace for the entire night?  
12:06. Lily was picking lint off of her cloak. She was so stupid to think that James would actually show.  
"Hey, Lily," a whispered voice came from behind her.  
Lily jumped with a start, and stood to face the voice. No one was there.  
"James?" she whispered back.  
And then James could be seen. He had his Invisibility Cloak on, and only his head popped out from underneath it. The floating head smiled mischeviously at her, and then opened the cloak to reveal his entire body.  
"Come on," he said, "I want to take you somewhere."  
Lily, unsure, slowly shook her head.  
James laughed, "You said you wanted to try the Cloak on. You have to trust me."  
Lily, seeing his relaxed face, returned his smile and walked around the couch to touch the Cloak. It felt so smooth. Like ice or water.  
  
"Get under it," he said, and draped it around the two of them. Lily felt his arms embrace her. They were so warm, and so strong. She had never felt safer in her life.  
"All right, now look over there," James said, pointing to a large mirror on the opposite wall. Lily followed his gaze, and gasped.  
"It works!" she exclaimed, "We're not there!"  
"Come on," he said nodding towards the portrait hole, "I want to show you something."  
  
"I used to come here when I was younger," he said, as they climbed the stairs, "Before all of us started disappearing underneath it. I told them I was going to the kitchens, but I was really coming up here."  
And then, Lily realized where he was taking her. The sky was open to the stars above them as they climbed to the top of the tower. Turrets surrounded the circular roof, where telescopes stood, flanking the turrets.  
  
It was the Astronomy Tower.  
"I was sort of homesick," James said, taking the Cloak off of them as they reached the last step, "And I'm come up here and think. You know, about different things. Sirius never understood that. He's not the philosopher deep thinking kind, if you know what I mean."  
Lily laughed, and then followed him to the edge of the Tower. The wind was blowing, and it was very cold. She rubbed her arms and shivered, and yet she wasn't uncomfortable.  
"It's a beautiful view," she said, as James leaned against the turrets.  
"Look," he said, pointing to the Forbidden Forest, "There's this Centaur Field over there," he told her, "We discovered it a while ago, but we never went back. They use it for rituals and things. And over there," he pointed to the lake, "That's where this great ditch is. Not many people know about it, because it's hard to see. But we used to throw Dungbombs at Snivellus from there. He didn't see us coming."  
"You seem to know a lot about this school," she said, looking at him. He was so beautiful. His messed jet black hair was swaying with the wind, and his eyes were so full of life. They looked out onto the world as an adventure. And yet, there was sadness. And anger.  
She looked away, and scanned the grounds below again.  
"It's so high up," she said.  
"Not as high as it is in Quidditch," James said.  
"I can imagine," Lily smiled, and then set her hand on his, which was lain ontop of the stone.  
He blinked, and stared at it. Warmth filled his heart as he stared at her perfect hands. And he knew that this was meant to be. He knew it sounded mushy and cliché, but there was something deep down that told him that everything was going to be all right.  
"Come here," he said, ushering her to the middle of the Tower. She followed him, and he said quietly, "Close your eyes."  
Lily laughed uneasily, but did as he said.  
"Now you can't look," he said, and Lily nodded.  
"Okay."  
James took his wand, and pointed it to the air. A white mist flew out of it, and hovered in the air. Out of the mist came thousands of fireflies, all blinking in the darkness of the night.  
"Now open your eyes," he said, and Lily let her hands drop. She gaped at the swarm of fireflies, surrounding her and James, and gasped.  
"Oh, they're so beautiful!" she exclaimed as they swirled around the two of them. James laughed as well, and said, "To light your way."  
Lily looked him in his beautiful face again. He was smiling again. He was so young. So wonderful.  
"You are nothing like I expected you to be," she said truthfully.  
"As you've said before," he said, and then Lily grabbed him. Before James could respond, Lily was kissing him again.  
The fireflies swarmed them in a large spiral, illuminating them as they embraced. They seemed never to want to let go. If they had stood there, on top of that Tower for the rest of eternity, they would have been more content than anyone else on Earth. For that one moment, there was no talk of the Order. No talk of Dumbledore or Voldemort. They did not exist. The only two that mattered were James Potter and Lily Evans.  
Everyone's had it. That one night when everything seems to be perfect. That one night where the world seems to revolve around you. That moment seems to stay with you no matter what the future may bring.  
And the memory of fireflies stayed with both of them until their final moments, years after this magical night, when the two of them would lay together, in the rubble of their house, never to smile again. 


	52. Chapter 51: NEWT's

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Sirius knew that he was losing his best friend. Slowly, he knew that soon James wouldn't come to him for anything. It would be Lily. This may not have bothered Remus, but it bothered him until it was eating away at his insides. Had Lily been there for the transformations? Had she been there to back him up when Snivellus was bothering them? Had she been there, supporting him the entire time that they had been in school?  
No, she hadn't.  
So how come she had become part of the group so quickly?  
Sirius had tried to hate her. Sirius had tried to despise her for all of the things that she had taken from him. A friend, room under the cloak (she was now accompanying them on their nightly tours of the castle), and of course, time with just the guys without her tagging along.  
But he felt himself falling into a friendship with her, along with the other two boys. She was very bright, and had a winning smile. And the duel with Snape had been pretty amazing. But even if Lily wasn't Morgana, Queen of the Underworld, she was slowly and sneakily pulling James away from him and the others, and into their own little world.  
But especially away from him.  
And on top of this, it was now March.  
The countdown to the end of school had begun. And they knew that all five of them would be called into Dumbledore's office to give their final answer right after Graduation. Then it would be off to a life of danger, mystery, and most of all, adventure.  
Sirius found himself looking very forward to the day when he could tell the Order that he would be joining them. He could see Longbottom's face, dropping to the ground as he shook hands with the Headmaster. And then it was off for adventure. He couldn't wait. It was like he was waiting for it his entire life. It was what he was made to do.  
Remus wasn't as enthusiastic about their fate. Sirius couldn't remember any time in the entire seven years that he had known him (with the exception of Darryl Avery and Remus's monthly transformations) to become violent and actually pick a fight. He wasn't exactly the soldier type, but he seemed determined to help.  
Not to mention that Voldemort now knew his name.  
James had decided to ignore everything that had anything to do with the Order or his father. His mother had sent him an owl, asking him to try to understand his father's decision.  
He hadn't responded.  
In the meantime, he had been busy with the rest of the group, preparing for N.E.W.T.'s. He hadn't been studying, of course. He hadn't studied for O.W.L.'s and now him and Sirius more accompanied the other three than actually join them in their book reading. Usually, James took out a Snitch, throw it up in the air, and then Sirius would attempt to catch it. James found out quickly why Sirius hadn't tried out for the Quidditch team.  
"Do you have any reflexes at all?" he laughed as Sirius ran around the common room, trying to get a hold of the small golden ball that was flitting about over his head.  
The schedules for N.E.W.T.'s had been handed out a week before they were taken, and the entire seventh year class was in a state of panic. The N.E.W.T.'s would be held over the course of one week, instead of the usual two weeks. James had three of them on one day, and Peter had a good handful of his in one afternoon.  
Lily and Remus were never seen out of the library, and Peter would tag along with them, trying to re-learn seven years worth of Transfiguration. This gave James and Sirius time to be alone together once again.  
"Just like the good old days," Sirius sighed, as they lay outside by the lake under the beech tree, "No girls. No werewolves. No evil demented wizards on a world domination ploit."  
James ignored his comment. But he couldn't this time. Sirius looked at him, and said, "Something you'd like to share with the class, Prongs?"  
"I've been rethinking my decision," he said watching the squid in the waters bask in the hot sun. The snow had melted early this year. Just as fast as it had come.  
"And," Sirius said, bringing himself up to his elbows.  
"I don't know," he said, "I mean, there's a part of me that wants to, you know. But . . ."  
"But what?"  
James shook his head sadly, and then mussed his hair, "I think I'm in love, Sirius."  
"I know," Sirius sighed, his stomach tying in a knot, "You've been in love ever since the age of eleven."  
"I showed her the Astronomy Tower," he said, "We went up there a while ago."  
"Has she decided what she's going to do?" Sirius asked.  
"She's going through with it," he told him, "And she wants me to go, too."  
"And are you?" Sirius said, sitting up to face him. James looked torn, and he shrugged. He may have answered if a shadow hadn't appeared between them, and a hand tap Sirius on the shoulder.  
Sirius turned around, to face Elise Warren, standing behind them.  
"Yeah?" he said.  
"How are you?"  
Sirius shrugged, "I don't know. Pretty well off. And you?"  
"I was just wondering if you had a date to the Graduation Dance?" she said bravely, and James felt himself trying to hold back laughs.  
Sirius wanted to reply that he did, and one was a rat and the other was very hairy and had fangs and claws and hung out in a shack, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her.  
"No," he said dumbly. James had never seen him act like this around anyone before, and Elise smiled.  
"Well, I was just wondering," she said, "And I know that it's very unorthodox for me to ask you this, but . . . would you mind going with me?"  
Sirius blinked, and then said, "Actually . . . I wasn't really planning on going."  
Elise stared back at him, and she said in a peeved tone, "Sirius, if you don't want to, all you'd have to say is that you don't like me. That's all you'd have to say."  
  
And then she turned away from him, and walked back up the hill. Sirius groaned, stood up, and said quickly, "I'll be right back, mate. Hey! Elise! No, I didn't mean anything by that! Of course I'll go!"  
James laughed to himself, and then lay down in the grass, trying to forget about Sirius's question. And the answer that he'd have to give Dumbledore one day.  
  
N.E.W.T.'s were harder than any of them would have thought. It was much like the O.W.L.'s except a lot more advanced. Written test in the morning, break for lunch, and then the kinisthetic exam.  
The hell of the first day ended with a bang, when Davey Gudgeon accidentally made his tea kettle explode into an amazing display of thunderclouds. Other than that, Lily almost had a nervous breakdown after having to take four tests in a row. All of her tests were the first day, and that was enough to wear anyone out.  
"At least I don't have any more exams to worry about," she said, nervously biting her nails as James walked her to class.  
The others weren't so lucky. James and Sirius, of course, passed through them with ease. Peter was a dark shade of green when he emerged from his Transfiguration exam.  
"I couldn't turn the proctor into a footstool," he explained, "I turned her into a mouse, and they spent all of my test time trying to grab her and change her back."  
Remus hadn't talked to anyone all week. When he wasn't taking his exams, he was in the dormitory room, studying. When anyone tried to make conversation with him as they passed in and out, he would say, "Uh-huh, yeah." And continue on as if no one was there.  
"He's nutters," Sirius told Lily when she asked if he was all right, "He always gets like this. Not as bad, mind you, but he's always been into his 'prefect' image. Never really quite understood why he puts up with us."  
"Because we're so loveable," James said.  
The second day of N.E.W.T.s were exhausting, except for Lily. She enjoyed her day off by spending some time with her old friends that were also finished. She was fully confident that she had done a wonderful job on everything. Yet, once in a while, she'd dig into her satchel and bring out the test papers, checking to make sure that a question said one thing and not another, or if an answer was supposed to be an essay when she had thought it to be true or false. Every time, she would clutch her chest, have a sharp outtake of breath, and return the paper to her satchel, saying, "Good, good. I'm fine. Good."  
Sirius had found the Defense Against the Dark Arts very easy, and had finished it in a matter of minutes. James, on the other hand, who had been trying to avoid the class ever since first year, had a hard enough time getting done with it in the time given, let alone going back and checking the answers. Yet, he said with confidence as he strolled out into the hall, "You know, I think that it went pretty well."  
They were all a lot more relaxed that night, and Sirius, James, and Lily all had a lovely game of Gobstones. Peter and Remus, on the other hand, continued to be locked up in their room the rest of the night. Peter had actually come down to join the three of them after a while, but Remus was still reading his books by wandlight by the time the rest of them piled into bed.  
The third day was also exhausting, and James found himself done with all of his tests. He and Lily spent the afternoon strolling across the grounds, enjoying the lovely spring day.  
The fourth day, Peter and Sirius were finished with everything, and the four of them could be found out in the Quidditch pitch, watching James catch a Snitch for his team practice.  
Finally, Friday came, and Remus emerged from his last exam, hair tussled, and eyes looking like they were about to burn out. Someone would have thought he had been struck by lightning if they hadn't known that he had been studying for two weeks straight.  
"You feeling all right, Moony?" Sirius asked as his friend met them at the beech tree. Remus nodded, frazzled, and sat down, "It's over. It's finally over."  
"And the Graduation Dance is in three months," James declared, "It's coming up."  
"Yeah," Remus said, sadly, and Lily looked to him.  
"What's the matter, Remus?" she asked.  
"I'm not going," he told her, "My mum is . . ."  
"Sick?" Peter offered.  
"Yeah," Remus said glumly, "I'm going to go visit her then."  
Lily gave him a look, and then went back to talking to James. Sirius coughed, and said very quietly, "Uh, Moony. I sort of have something to tell you."  
"Yeah?" he asked, setting his books inside his bags.  
"I'm not going with you two," he said, "I've got . . . well, I've got a date . . . "  
Remus's eyes shot to him in a stare, "What? You almost ring James out for ditching us, and now you're leaving too?"  
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Elise asked me."  
"She asked you?" Remus said.  
"Yeah."  
Remus sighed, and then looked to Peter, "And now you tell me that you have a date, too."  
"No," Peter said, "I'm still game."  
"We'll try to make it quick," Sirius said, "Me and James have already talked about it. We're going to leave early."  
"That'll be fine," Remus said, starting to cheer up, "But don't let me stand in your way. If you want to go, you don't have to think about me."  
If the boys had noticed that Lily wasn't listening to a word James was saying, and listening to the two of them, they would have probably stopped talking about their choice of conversation. But alas, they didn't realize that she was looking over her boy's shoulder and taking in every word that they were saying.  
  
Preperations for the Dance were left up to the Head Boy and Head Girl. This gave some extra time for James and Lily to see each other. They spent their remaining nights planning out the entire evening for the school. They had decided on a formal theme, and everyone in Gryffindor Tower was agreeing that that would be the best way to go. (All except for Davey, who was begging James to make it punk rocked.)  
"Punk rock?" James said in awe, "You want our Graduation Dance to be punk rock? Are you nutters?"  
"Come on," Davey said, "Can't you see it? I'm envisioning mosh pit, guitars, amps, the whole shebang!"  
"It's a formal Graduation Dance," James said, "No one will be able to hear each other."  
  
"Exactly!" Davey said, "So no one has to worry about endless conversation! All they have to do is dance, and pretend to have a good time."  
  
"No, Davey," James laughed, "We're not doing punk rock."  
"I'll pay you for it," Davey said, "Come on!"  
They had decided on a formal theme.  
James wasn't the only one preparing for the dance. Sirius could be found at the back of his classes, trying to figure out how to do a spell to be in two places at once. There was no luck, and the two of them sat together one dinner to discuss the plan for the night.  
"We're leaving at nine o' clock," Sirius said, "We drop everything, ditch the girls, and run for it."  
"Nine?" James started, "Are you mad? The dance doesn't start until eight!"  
"All right," Sirius said, "Nine thirty."  
"No," James shifted in his seat, "How about midnight? He's gone that long by himself before."  
"Yeah, but he hasn't gone that long with just a rat," Sirius replied, "We'll go down there, and Moony'll have Wormtail hanging out of his mouth."  
  
"Why do you have to talk about those sort of things?" James groaned. He didn't want to see that mental image in his head.  
"Because it's my reason for living," Sirius laughed, "To annoy you."  
"Maybe we should just skip the whole full moon this time," James looked tired. He had been working nonstop for the Dance since the beginning of April, and now it was rounding into May. He needed a day off. Or a night out, whichever one.  
"No, we're not," Sirius said, "We have a responsibility. We dug ourselves into becoming Animagi, and now we're going to keep on being Animagi."  
"I distinctly remember you digging us into it," James said.  
"Ah, yeah, but you know you like it," Sirius jeered.  
"It's been fun," James admitted.  
WHAM.  
James's head richoched off of the table, and he fell to the ground, trying to straighten his glasses. Sirius stood immediately, wand pointed at his attacker.  
As his eyes gathered their bearings, and came into focus, James saw Snivellus hovering over him, snarling.  
"You told them, didn't you, Potter?" he hissed.  
"What?" James said, struggling to his feet.  
"You told them about Klien and me," Snape accused, "You told Dumbledore that you saw me with Klien. Talking."  
"We all saw you," Sirius barked, "Bet it was the most exciting moment of your life, getting told that you could be one of Voldemort's goons, you little greaseball."  
  
Snape turned his attention to Sirius, eyes blazing, "And I bet it was the most exciting moment of your life when you sent me to the werewolf."  
"Sirius . . ." James warned, as Sirius darkened, and his shoulders tensed.  
"You heard me," Snivellus sneered, "That freak friend of yours is going to end up dead. I'll make sure of it."  
"It'd be easier to do if you weren't scared of him," James retorted, and Snape darted his eyes back to the ground, where James was sprawled out. But James had grabbed his wand, and had it pointed right at him.  
"Foodawasi!" James shouted, and all of his and Sirius's food flew off of the table, and hit Snape square in the face. He stumbled back, and then glared even more so at James.  
"And I don't owe you ANYTHING, you arrogant git!" he screeched, before heading back to the Slytherin table.  
Sirius looked quickly up to the High Table, but no one had noticed the outbreak. They had gotten away with it this time. It was a miracle.  
"Must have been preoccupied," he muttered to himself, as James took his seat again at the table.  
"What?"  
"Nothing," Sirius said, looking curiously at Professor McGonagall. 


	53. Chapter 52: Things Worth Fighting For

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
"Could use some help here!"  
  
Remus looked up from his Potions homework, and laughed as James wrestled with his cuffs.  
"Haven't you ever dressed up before?" Remus scolded as he jumped off of the bed and took James's sleeve to prim the dress robe.  
"No," James said, "If you haven't noticed, I'm not the type that gets my jollies from cocktail parties."  
"Is this too much cologne?" Sirius said, coming out of the corner. A cloud of stench followed him, and Peter fell over backwards off of his bed.  
"You two are helpless," Remus sighed, and then pointed his wand at Sirius, "Oblivio."  
The cloud disappeared, and Sirius frowned, "Hey! Why'd you do that?"  
"I'm saving your dignity," he replied, and then checked James's robes, "I think you're ready to go. As for you," he started in on Sirius, "You're wearing your clothes backwards."  
Sirius looked down, and laughed, "I was wondering why the clasps were in the back."  
"Come here," Remus said, and pushed Sirius's longer hair over his shoulders, "Now look, you've got the collar all buckled wrong."  
"We'll be down in the tunnel by eleven," James told Peter and Remus, "We have to take the girls back up to the dormitory, and then we'll be down to help you out, Wormtail."  
  
"We have to stay clear of the school tonight," Remus said, "Too many people out and about."  
"Right," Sirius said happily, "To Hogsmeade it is, then."  
  
Lily and Elise were sitting on the couch, side by side, waiting for Sirius and James to meet them. They had been sitting there for a good hour, it looked like. The two boys shut the door behind them, and quietly made their way down the stairs, checking their now tamed hair.  
Remus had done a charm on both of them to make their hair slick back into place, flat on their heads. James felt a sudden urge to mess it up again. His hand kept twitching as he and Sirius walked to the two girls, smiling at them.  
Lily was beautiful. She had let her long hair hang down, and it shone around her like a halo. Her makeup was applied so beautifully that it looked almost natural. She had a beautiful dark blue dress that flowed and rippled on the skirt, and heeled shoes that made her posture even more graceful.  
James had never seen Lily in an actual dress, apart from the Hogwarts uniform. She hadn't been a tomboy, no, but she hadn't been like her friends, who dolled up every morning and strutted around school like they owned the place. No, Lily was different.  
And Lily was beautiful.  
Sirius didn't seem as intrigued with his date, other than what he saw. Elise was a sight to stun. She was almost as gorgeous as Lily. Her hair was pinned perfectly in back of her head and then rolled into a bun that was sparkling. She had a red dress that had no sleeves, and a necklace that was as large as her throat.  
"You two ready?" James asked them.  
They nodded, and Sirius gulped.  
Down the stairs they went, and to the Entrance Hall, where everyone else was waiting with their dates excitedly for the doors to open.  
"Um, Lily," James muttered as Lily turned to look at him.  
"Yeah, James?" she asked.  
James shifted his weight to his other foot, and then said quietly, "We have to leave at eleven."  
  
"What?"  
"Yeah, we have to go at eleven. I've got stuff to do tonight," he said.  
"We only have one assignment, and I helped you with it over lunch," Lily said, "The Dance is supposed to be all night, and you want to leave three hours into it?"  
"Peter needs help with his assignment, and then Remus wanted to show me a new chess move, and then Sirius . . ."  
Lily sighed, "Whatever. Fine. Eleven."  
"Did I mention you're beautiful?"  
"Shut up, James," she said, half smiling, half frowning, "You're not saving yourself out of this one."  
The doors opened, and Professor McGonagall stood there, looking very bright and cheery (this was a definite first for her).  
"The Dance has begun," she told the seventh years, and everyone rushed forward to enter the Great Hall. Lily and James had decorated it together over the past month, and it sparkled with life.  
Music from no where began to play, and everyone grabbed their partners and took a spot on the cleared floor. Then they danced.  
Elise dragged Sirius with her as she tried to teach him how to waltz. But Sirius was lost and confused. James laughed as he got a glimpse of Sirius's long hair, matted down to his skull, trying not to step on his date's feet.  
James felt the twitch in his hand again as he wanted to mess his own hair again.  
"Come on," Lily said, taking his hands, "You know how to dance?"  
"I do," James said, "Sort of."  
Laughing, Lily took his arm, and placed it on her waist. He gulped. Then she took his other hand, and raised it. And finally, she placed her hand on his shoulder, and smiled.  
"You ready?" she asked.  
He nodded vigorously, and she took a step back. He followed her, but clumsily. He wasn't looking where he was going. He was staring into her eyes.  
They were so green. So . . . perfect.  
"James?" she asked.  
"Yeah?" he mumbled, half listening.  
"James, I know that this probably isn't the greatest time to talk about it," Lily said, coming to a slow halt, "But if I don't say something now, it's going to be bothering me all night, and then I won't enjoy the . . . the three hours we have."  
"Yeah?" he asked, and she sighed, "Come on, let's go sit down for a minute."  
She led him off of the dance floor, and they took a seat on two chairs next to the punch table. James saw that Lily was hurting inside. Something was bothering her.  
"What is it?" he asked.  
Lily sighed again, and took his hand, "I want to join the Order."  
  
James groaned, and turned away.  
"No, I know I already told you this," Lily said solemnly, "And I know that this is the least of all times that you want to talk about it . . ."  
"You're right, so how about we just go back and dance," James snapped, going to stand up.  
"You can't keep ignoring it," Lily said, pushing him back down, "Now listen to me. I want to join the Order. But I'm not going to unless you come with me."  
  
James blinked, "What?"  
"What do you mean 'what?'" Lily asked.  
"I mean what I said," James said nervously, "Why in God's name would you do that?"  
"Because," she said, "I love you."  
The world stopped. In that one moment, the world stopped. She had never said that to him before. He had said it a few hundred times to his friends, and maybe even she had mentioned it once or twice to the giggly girls. But never to each other. There was the occasional, "I like you" or "I want to be with you," but not "I love you."  
"You . . . you love me?" he sputtered.  
Lily nodded, her eyes deadset on him, "And I'm not going to leave you for the Order. I have to know that you're okay. I have to . . ."  
"I can't, Lily!" James said, standing up, "I can't join! I'll . . . I'll put my family in danger."  
"Your family is already in danger," she spoke up, "James, haven't you ever felt in your heart, like something was worth fighting for? Like . . . like something was so important, and so meaningful, that even if it was so insignificant to everyone else, you would give your life for it?"  
James sighed.  
"When you stood in front of Remus that night in the park," she said, taking his hand, "What were you thinking? You didn't care if you got hurt, just as long as you could protect him from whatever was coming. And that's what I'm feeling now. That's why I want to join. I want to protect my family, and my friends, and . . . and you."  
James looked at her, his eyes wide. He was dying inside.  
Yes, he had felt that way before.  
The night when they had found out that Remus was a werewolf and Peter had been locked out of the bedroom. He had opened the door and saved his life.  
When Sirius had told Snape to follow them through the tunnel, James had ran after him to stop him. He could have been killed easily, but it hadn't stopped him then.  
And then in the park. When Remus was laying there on the ground . . . shaking . . .  
James felt sick.  
Yes, he knew the feeling. He knew the feeling very well.  
Lily was studying him closely, and she gently touched his shoulder, "That feeling is called love, James. That feeling is called bravery. It's the reason why I know that . . . in my heart, it is right."  
James turned to her, and then slowly nodded his head, "I understand."  
"And what's your decision?" she asked quietly.  
James took her hand and held it tightly in his hand. He never wanted to let go. She was so smart. So brave . . .  
And then slowly, James looked her in her beautiful green eyes, and said almost in a whisper, "Yes."  
"Hey! Potter! Come on!" Sirius laughed from the dance floor, where he and Elise were starting a conga line to the beat of a menuet. Professor Hall looked appalled, but Professor McGonagall was trying to hide her grin.  
Lily smiled, and then took James's hand, "Come on, let's go."  
But James didn't stand up, and Lily was yanked back. She stared at him.  
"What?"  
James was still looking into her eyes as he stood to come face to face with her.  
"I love you, too," he said.  
Lily's smile grew brighter, and she embraced him. Her arms flung around his neck, and she kissed him long and hard.  
Lipstick could be seen on James's lips as he and Lily ran onto the dance floor.  
  
"Sorry we have to leave so soon, girls," Sirius said, undoing his cuffs, "But a lot of things to do tonight. Right, Prongs?"  
Elise looked gravely sour as the four of them walked out of the Great Hall, and into the Entrance Hall.  
"I don't see why you have so much to do on the night of the Dance," she huffed, and Lily looked at James in the corner of her eye.  
"Well, I'm sorry, Warren," Sirius said, "But there are a lot more important things than some stupid . . ."  
"Dance?" she finished him, "With me?"  
Sirius's face dropped, "No, I didn't say that. When did I say that?"  
"You didn't have to say it," Elise shot back.  
"Look," he said, "I'll walk you back up to your room, all right? Come on," he flashed a winning smile, "Give me five more minutes."  
"Me give you five more minutes," Elise huffed, but she was still grinning, "You who wants to leave hours early."  
And the two of them made their way up the stairs, Sirius giving a thumbs up to Lily and James.  
The remaining two laughed, and then James realized how late it was getting. The thought of Wormtail being chased around the Shack was not appealing, and he knew that he had to leave.  
"Well, it's been a terrific night," he said, looking at Lily. His hand twitched to touch his hair.  
"You're not going to walk me up?" Lily asked.  
"Well," James sighed, "I sort of have to go somewhere . . . I mean . . . I have to get something real quick. Maybe . . . maybe I can meet you up there?"  
Lily, surprisingly not bringing up an argument, nodded her head, and kissed him goodnight, "See you tomorrow," she said quietly, and then began to walk up the stairs.  
James waited until she was out of sight before stealing away out of the main doors.  
And Lily waited until he was out of sight before stealing back down the marble staircase. 


	54. Chapter 53: Prongs

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
James could be seen sneaking across the grounds, and to the Whomping Willow. Lily shut the oak doors behind her very quietly, before following him to wherever he was going. The Whomping Willow?  
Why was he heading towards that old thing?  
And then she saw it. A small rat emerged from a hole underneath the trunk, and ran to James. James looked at it in curiosity.  
Lily ducked behind a tree as James knelt down to speak to the rat. But that was so impossible! Unless he had totally lost his sanity . . .  
He couldn't speak to rats, could he?  
"What's happening?" he whispered.  
And then Lily gasped. The rat wasn't there any longer. It was Peter Pettigrew!  
  
What were they up to?  
"He's going ballistic," Peter squeaked, "I had to run for my life. I can't do it by myself. He was going to eat me."  
James sighed, and then stood, with Peter by his side.  
"Well, we're waiting for Padfoot, and then we'll go down."  
"What do you mean?"  
"He had to walk Princess Elise back upstairs," James explained, "God, I don't know what he sees in her."  
A shadow caught Lily's eye, and she turned her attention to the oak doors, where another figure had appeared.  
A large black dog, running towards James. It was going to attack him! It was going to pounce on him!  
Lily ran from behind the tree, and pointed her wand at the maddened dog.  
"EXPELLIRAMUS!" she screamed.  
At the same time in which James and Peter were turning around to stare at her, the jet of light shot out of the end of her wand and hit the black dog square in the stomach. With a howl, the dog went flying, and skidded to a stop on the grass a good five feet away from where he had been standing. His legs splayed in the air, the dog looked from James and Peter, to where the light had come from.  
And the other two followed his gaze.  
"Lily?" James gulped, "What are you doing here?"  
"I . . ." Lily stared at the dog, who was trying to stand up, "That . . . that dog was attacking you! He was going to . . ."  
Peter let out a laugh, and James turned to look at the dog, "Well, I guess he does look sort of rabid."  
The dog growled.  
Lily raised her wand to it again, but James shook his head, "Don't, Lily. He's not dangerous."  
"And then I saw you appear out of a rat," she started in on Peter, "And I don't know if I'm losing my mind, or . . ."  
"Oh, we're done for!" Peter squealed, "We're found out."  
"Oh, quit your whining," James sighed, and then looked to the dog.  
"I think she deserves an explanation now, don't you think?" he asked it, "I mean, she did give Snivellus a good beating."  
The dog groaned, and then to Lily's surprise, actually nodded. She gasped, and pointed her wand back at it, "What is that thing?" she said, "And . . . just . . . what is it?"  
"Not what," James said, taking her wand and sticking it back in her pocket. He wasn't nervous at all, "Who."  
Lily blinked, "What?"  
  
"Lily," James turned back to the dog, that was now by his side. It was so large. And blacker than anything she had ever seen, "I'd like you to meet Padfoot."  
Lily's jaw dropped as all of the pieces were put together. The dog raised one paw, and waved at her, smiling. Her eyes grew wide, and the boys could swear that they saw that twitch in her left eye return.  
"You . . . you're an Animagus?" she said in awe, "Sirius?"  
And then the dog nodded.  
"And Peter?" she turned to look at him, "Wormtail, right?"  
Peter nodded sheepishly, turning very red.  
And then she looked to James, who had grown very still.  
"And what . . ."  
"Close your eyes," he said plainly.  
"What?" she asked.  
"You have to trust me," he said, "Close your eyes."  
Lily, not knowing whether or not to trust him, closed her eyes slowly. Padfoot whimpered, and nudged James's leg. James looked down at his friend, and patted his head.  
"It's all right," he said, "It's time she knows."  
And it was only moments later that Lily heard a snort, and she opened her eyes.  
James was no where to be seen.  
In place of him, right where he had been standing, was a beautiful creature. It's antlers reached towards the stars above, and it's hooves pawed the ground. It's chest was a beautiful white, and it's black eyes blinked at her.  
It was a stag.  
"We didn't want to tell you."  
Lily turned from the creature, and came face to face with Sirius, who was still in his dress robes. He was clutching his stomach.  
"What?" she said.  
"Ever since second year," Sirius said, "We've been teaching ourselves to become Animagi. And in fifth year, we could finally do it. And we made up our names."  
"Padfoot," she said to him, and he nodded.  
She looked back at the stag, "And Prongs."  
Prongs nodded.  
Lily cautiously walked to the stag, and raised her hand to touch his face.  
"It's all right," Sirius said from behind her, "It's still James."  
She felt the deer's fur. It was so soft. Prongs nuzzled her face, and she stepped back to stare at this creature.  
"It is James," she exclaimed.  
The stag nodded again, and then right in front of her eyes, transformed back into the man who she loved.  
She looked ready to faint, and Sirius stepped behind her, just in case she did. But she just stayed still, like stone, staring at the three of them in a daze. She knew that they were hiding something from her. But . . . but this?  
"Something could have gone wrong," she said, jumping back into reality, "You could have ended up mutated . . . or dead . . . it was dangerous . . ."  
"You said that there were things worth risking your life for, right?" James said, coming closer to her.  
"We didn't exactly do it for jollies," Sirius spoke up, and she looked back at the tree.  
Suddenly, she realized that something was missing. She turned toward James and the other two, and said quietly, "There was another name."  
The three boys lost all color left in their face.  
"Yeah," James said, "There was."  
"And I'm guessing that was Remus?" Lily said quietly.  
"Yeah," James said again, and then mussed his hair. The perfect style came undone in a second. Sirius looked protectively at the tree, and then to James.  
"We can't," he protested.  
"We have to," James argued.  
"But," Sirius said, "But there's no reason why! I mean, she already knows enough. Why bring him into all this? And how do we know that she's just not gonna go wailing to Professor McGonagall?"  
"Because she would have done that by now," James defended her, "I trust her."  
Sirius, his face dropping, sighed, and then turned away from James. James quietly walked to the edge of the Willow, and picked up the stick. Lily watched with amazement as he prodded the knot at the trunk, and the tree went still.  
He then turned to Lily, and said quietly, "I think it's time you met Moony." 


	55. Chapter 54: Lily and the Werewolf

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: There is a reason for the rating of PG-13. There is another transformation in this chapter, and so we all know from earlier chapters what this means. Please do not read ahead if you are under the age of thirteen.)  
  
The tunnel was dark as the three boys led the terrified Lily Evans to the light that was showing at the end.  
"All right," James said, coming to a halt, "Sirius and I are going to transform now, okay? And Peter's going to stay with you. If Sirius barks, you run for your life, all right? And I'm not joking. I mean don't look back and run for the entrance."  
Lily nodded, every bone in her body shaking. She had never been so scared in her entire life.  
James and Sirius looked to each other, and quietly were replaced by the stag and the black dog. They began to trot to the entrance, where a howling had sounded a few moments ago. Lily went to follow them, but Peter tugged her back.  
"Not yet," he said, shivering, "Let them go first."  
The trap door was opened, and Padfoot leaped out of sight. Prongs followed, and then the two of them were all alone.  
Inside the Shrieking Shack, the wolf had done a pretty good job of wrecking the place in the three hours that they had left him alone. The curtains were in shreds, and the couch looked like it was about to fall to bits.  
A raspy breathing came from the pantry, and Padfoot sprinted to where the sounds were coming from. He skidded to a stop as he came face to face with the wolf, covered in flour and tearing a bag of bread to pieces. The wolf snorted, and thrashed his head to stare at this new intruder.  
And his eyes softened.  
Padfoot let out a breath of relief, and then led Moony back out into the living room, where Prongs was waiting. There was a voice coming from underneath the trap door.  
"Remus!" Peter's voice sounded, "We have Lily here with us!"  
Moony shot a glare to Prongs, and Prongs shrugged.  
"If you think you can handle yourself around her, knock three times on the trap door. If not, then we'll turn back."  
He couldn't believe that his friends had done this to him. Let another know about his secret. He stared at Prongs for an explanation.  
  
All he got back was a look that said, She has to know.  
The wolf was at bay within him, but not for long. He didn't know how long. The wolf had been terrible to him that night.  
He didn't want Lily to see him like this.  
Padfoot gave a groan, and ran to the trap door. He took his paw, and rapped three times on the wood. Moony growled, but Padfoot didn't respond.  
Prongs and him took their rightful places on either side of Moony, and waited for the door to open.  
  
"Now remember," Peter said quietly, "It isn't Remus. It's . . ."  
"Just open the door," Lily said, determined, and Peter turned around.  
"Okay," he said quickly, and he swung the door open.  
Peter went first, and then hoisted Lily up into the living room. It was the Shrieking Shack, Lily could tell right away. But it had been massacred.  
And then she saw it. Standing between Prongs and Padfoot, she saw it.  
  
A werewolf.  
She gasped, and Moony blinked.  
Blood.  
He could smell it.  
He shook his head.  
No. NO! NO! He would NOT . . .  
BLOOOD!  
He lunged forward, out of the reach of the stag or the dog, and right at Lily.  
"OH MY GOD!" Lily screamed, and ran hysterically for the stairs.  
"No, Lily!" Peter stuttered, jumping back into the trap door's hole, "No! Down here! Come back down here!"  
But Lily wasn't listening. She shot up the stairs, and flew into a bedroom. She slammed the door, and locked it.  
"JAMES POTTER!" Lily screamed, "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"  
The werewolf bounded after her, and ran full force into the door. She screamed as he collided with the wood and hit the floor with a thump.  
"HELP ME!" she screamed.  
Prongs and Padfoot, who had just made it to the top of the staircase, leapt in front of Moony to protect the door. Padfoot pinned him to the ground, as Prongs stared over his shoulder at the wolf.  
Come on, Remus, he thought, Get a hold of yourself.  
A rat jumped up the stairs after them, squeaking. He ran past them, and slid under the door into Lily's room. Another scream came from behind the door, and then Peter's voice trying to calm her down.  
Blood. He could smell it.  
Blood!  
Blood!  
Padfoot snarled. It had never been this hard to get Moony to cooperate. Was he losing it?  
  
BLOOD!  
BLOOD!  
Padfoot bit him on the ear. The wolf's eyes dialated, and he lunged for the dog's throat. The two of them rolled down the stairs, snarling and clawing at each other. Prongs dashed after them, and stomped his feet to get them to stop. But no such luck.  
Padfoot swiped a paw at the wolf, and the wolf howled.  
Prongs charged at Moony, and butted him to the ground. Moony grabbed the stag's leg with his jaws, and Prongs hollered in pain.  
BLOOD!  
  
Padfoot growled, and then leaped onto his back. He got his teeth around the wolf's scruff of his neck, and pulled him off of his feet. The wolf hit the ground, snarling.  
Padfoot dragged him into the pantry, threw him up against the shelves. The wolf stared at him for a moment, and Padfoot swore that he saw Remus's eyes submerge from the monster. But it may have just been a trick of the light, because soon enough, the wolf was lunging towards him again. Padfoot got a hold of his front leg, and slammed him back into the wall.  
That'll teach you to screw things up for us, he thought to himself, and then slammed the door behind him as he walked out. Prongs took the lock in his mouth, and turned it with a click.  
The wolf was caged in.  
Moony felt a tinge of fear in his heart. They had locked him in with the beast! They had locked him in by himself!  
How dare they lock him in.  
He ran full force at the door, slamming against it. But it was no use. He lay in a heap on the floor, surrounded by flour flying through the air. He was losing consciencesnous.  
He closed his eyes.  
And the wolf laughed at him. He laughed at small little Remus. He just lay there and laughed.  
I. Will. Not. Die. Remus said. But the wolf continued laughing.  
Remus glared at him, in the corner. His fangs caked with dried blood. His face one of a demon.  
You thought you could outwit me. Fight your own monsters. Oh, were you wrong, my friend. How you were wrong.  
I will not die, Remus shouted back at the wolf. But the wolf continued laughing.  
You think we're different, Remus Lupin? We're the same person. We share the same body.  
I WILL NOT DIE! He screamed, and the wolf stopped laughing.  
The wolf stood, and snarled at Remus. And then attacked.  
Remus felt his body surge, and for a minute, he was forgotten again. Dead. He was dead.  
The wolf laughed. He laughed long and hard. He looked down upon the being that he had beaten, and he laughed.  
I told you. You cannot fight me. You pathetic excuse for a human being. I am the monster. For it is I that will not die.  
  
Moony had gone quiet on the other side of the door. Prongs and Padfoot had transformed back into human, and they had sat outside the door. He had been knocked out after hitting the door with his body. They wanted to let him out.  
But they knew that they couldn't. Not until morning. Peter and Lily had joined them at the pantry entrance, listening through the wooden door to hear if Remus was still alive. Still breathing.  
Lily was in shock, and she lay in James's lap as he stroked her hair. But she wouldn't respond to him. She just stared at the door, waiting until the dawn would come and they could see the monster again.  
But they didn't see the monster when they opened the door. It was Remus. Moony was gone. The wolf had subsided again.  
Remus was laying on the floor of the pantry. He was silent.  
"Is he breathing?" Peter asked quietly as Sirius went to drag him out of the pantry. He took his arms, and slid him onto the floor of the kitchen. He then tore off a part of his dress robes, and pressed it to his friend's head.  
"Yeah," he said, checking his pulse, "He's breathing. He's alive."  
"What happened?" Lily said loudly.  
"He's a werewolf," Sirius said offhandedly as he applied pressure to the wound. He himself was cut up pretty badly, but didn't pay any attention to his own injuries.  
"Come on, Lupin," James whispered, "Come on, Moony. Wake up."  
"Is he all right?" Lily asked.  
"I don't know," James said truthfully, "I . . . he's never been this bad."  
  
"Stress, I tell you," Sirius said, wrapping another piece of cloth around his head to tie the other in place, "I bet it's all the stress he's been going through. What, with the Order, and then N.E.W.T.s on top of that."  
Remus groaned.  
"He speaks," Sirius said.  
"Oh, Mr. Lupin!"  
The four of them snapped their heads towards the trap door. It was lifting.  
"Quick!" James grabbed Lily and took Sirius's hand, "In here!"  
Peter followed his three friends into the pantry, and slammed the door behind them.  
"What is -" James clamped a hand over Lily's mouth, as they heard Madam Pomfrey gasp from the other room. Then her footsteps went to Remus, and they heard, "Mobilicorpus" uttered. Then footsteps back to the trap door, and then the trap door bang shut.  
Lily broke free of James and stared at all three of them in horror, "What the hell was that?"  
  
"I've never heard you swear before," Sirius said, "Quite an improvement."  
"That was Remus Lupin," James tried to explain, "And he's a werewolf."  
"This is some kind of trick," Lily said, opening the pantry door, "This is some sort of joke to get back at me for trying to figure out what you guys were up to. This is a prank, isn't it?"  
They didn't answer.  
"Isn't it?" she demanded, swiveling around. She cried out, as she saw that all three of them were gone, and replaced by a stag, a dog, and a rat.  
In a minute, they were back to regular human form.  
"No," James said, "No, it's not." 


	56. Chapter 55: The Final Decision

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: And so we conclude the Hogwarts years . . .)  
  
Remus had returned from the hospital, very quiet and reformed that next Sunday. Two days after the transformation.  
The boys had invited Lily into their room to sit and talk to Remus about the nightmare that she had seen. They thought that it would help her accept him if she heard it from him. Remus had agreed, and Lily had not.  
"Come on now," James said, following her back to the dormitory from breakfast, "He's still Lupin. I mean . . . "  
Lily turned around to look at him, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"  
"Well," James said truthfully, "We wanted to make sure that you didn't go running of and blow our cover, that's why."  
"So you thought that I was the sort of person that would blow your cover, huh?" Lily retorted, "Yeah, you really love me. Tell me all of your secrets. I . . ."  
"Hey, I told you, didn't I?" James said, "And because of you, Remus ended up in the hospital wing for the entire weekend."  
  
"Oh, because of me?" Lily said, doubtful.  
"Yeah," James said, "You . . . you looked at him like he was some sort of . . ."  
"Werewolf?" Lily shouted, "Yeah! That's what he is, James! A werewolf!"  
James stared at her, "You know, I thought you'd be more understanding. But you're acting just like Snape did when he found out."  
"Snape? Snape knows about him?" Lily said, her face falling.  
"Why do you think he hates him so much?"  
Lily sighed, and put her hand on her hip, "Fine. I'll talk to him."  
  
Remus was sitting on his trunk, across from Lily. They had been sitting there for an hour. He had told her the entire story about how he had become a werewolf. About the monthly transformations. About how they learned to be Animagi. About Snape.  
Everything.  
And at the end of it, Lily had just nodded her head solemnly, and said in a very worn voice, "So that myth about werewolves being aware of what they're doing . . . that's a lie, right?"  
Remus nodded.  
"Oh," Lily said, very small, "Because I swore that you were trying to kill me."  
There was a quiet laugh throughout the room, and then Remus reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched, but let him.  
"It's a curse," he said, "But it's brought us a lot of good times. And a lot of good things. And I never would have hurt you if I had been in control."  
Lily, now believing him, nodded, and then put her hand on his, "I know," she said, "I know."  
"And I'm not giving up," Remus said, not talking to her anymore, but more to an omniscient presence. Possibly the wolf itself, "I'll never give up. He doesn't own me yet. And he never will."  
The look of determination in Remus's eyes was honest. He would never let that wolf laugh at him again. He would fight until the moment that he died. He would show that monster. No more scared little Remus. No more freak friend. No more fear.  
"And you are never coming back with us again, Lily," Sirius said, interrupting his thoughts.  
"That was the last transformation," Remus said sourly, "Some night, huh?"  
"Waste of a night, more like it," James said from his spot next to Lily.  
There was a silence that cut through the room.  
"So I guess that's it," Remus said, "No more Shrieking Shack. No more monthly escapades."  
"Yeah," Sirius said sadly, "No more marauding."  
The boys seemed mournful as they remembered all of their magical nights in their own world. When nothing stood between them and the world. Now it was gone.  
And there was only one more obstacle left.  
  
Dumbledore called the five of them back into the room on the last day of school. Graduation was over. They had received their diplomas, packed their things, and said one last goodbye to their old teachers and classrooms.  
Now the only thing left was this meeting with the Headmaster, and then the last train ride home. Never to return again.  
Dumbledore looked older as he and Frank Longbottom peered over his desk at them. No one else. Just the two of them. In front of them lay a paper. A contract.  
"This is what you will sign," Dumbledore said, "If you wish to join. Once you sign this, you will be bonded to the other members. And to each other. Remus Lupin, please rise."  
Remus was the first to stand, and take the long feathered quill from Frank's hand. He leaned over the desk, and wrote all of his dreams away.  
No teaching. No schooling. No students.  
Nothing except the Order.  
"Sirius Black."  
Then came Sirius. He took the quill from Remus, and wrote his name larger than any other signature that was already placed on it. He smiled as Frank stared at him in awe.  
Seven years of preparation for this one moment. Seventeen years of hate and anger all put into that signature. It is what his life was meant to be.  
"Peter Pettigrew."  
He handed the quill off to Peter, and sat down. Peter stared at the paper, in horror. All of those names were doomed. All of those names that had signed before him had sold their soul to a useless cause.  
And yet, he saw his hand write his name bold on the parchment. Peter Pettigrew.  
"Lily Evans," Dumbledore said.  
Lily squeezed James's hand, and rose to take the quill from Peter's shaking fingers. She boldly wrote her name next to the other three boys's, and then James stood next to her, taking her hand again.  
She handed him the quill, and he stared at it like he had never seen one like it before. The office was silent. Everyone had frozen.  
James was petrified. He looked back at the parchment, at the different names that lay before him.  
Frederick Snorks.  
He had died as a spy, killed by Death Eaters.  
Michael June.  
His family had been killed. He had been blinded. And then finally they finished him off.  
Marlene McKinnon.  
Her family was dead.  
And towards the bottom Mr. Harold W. Potter.  
His father. His daughter was dead. His son was on the blacklist. His entire family was as good as dead.  
He felt Lily squeeze his hand, and James jumped. He looked to her for help . . . for strength.  
"Go ahead," she said softly.  
He loved her.  
He loved his mother. He cared for his friends.  
And he felt the quill drop from his hand.  
"James?" Frank spoke up. James stared at him, determined.  
"I can't," he said, shaking his head.  
Dumbledore shifted in his seat, and Lily squeezed his hand, "It's all right. Just go ahead."  
  
"No," James broke free from Lily, and then looked to Sirius, "I . . . I can't."  
Sirius's eyes darkened.  
"James . . ." Dumbledore started.  
"No," James said again, and then grabbed his cloak, "I can't."  
"Potter, it's what your father would do," Frank said as James turned his back on all of them.  
"Exactly," James said darkly, and walked down the staircase.  
Away from the Order. Away from Dumbledore. Away from Lily.  
Away from it all.  
Dumbledore sighed, and rubbed his tired eyes. Then he addressed the remaining four.  
"You will be asked to pack up only what you need, and meet a man in a purple hat in the locker room of King's Cross tomorrow at noon," he said, "If anyone follows you, do not lead them to the room. If anyone asks you who you are meeting, tell them Mr. England. Do you understand me?"  
They nodded, but all of them were still staring at the door that had just shut behind James. None of them could do this without him. It had gone unsaid. Without Prongs, the rest of the boys wouldn't know what to do.  
Lily wished she could erase her name from that parchment. He had tricked her. He had let her believe that he was truly going to join her. And he knew that she had wanted to. He had waited until she had signed. It is what she wanted to do, join the Order. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what he had done. He knew that she wouldn't sign if he didn't.  
"What?" Sirius asked.  
Lily felt her heart pound in her temples, as she said through her cracked voice, "He really does love me."  
  
The next day was bittersweet. The seventh years were cut off from anyone else in the school. As they walked the long path to arrive at Hogsmeade Station, there was always one of them looking over their shoulders to take one more look at Hogwarts. They were adults now.  
They were grown up, and not children anymore.  
James did not make the trek with his friends. When he boarded the train, he found his own compartment, and did a locking charm on the door so that it couldn't open. And then he sat next to the window, and watched the trees fly past him.  
The lady with the food cart knocked on the door once, but he didn't answer her, and she continued down the hall without another word. He had expected Sirius to come barging down the corridor, pounding his fists on the door and shouting for James to come out and face them.  
But Sirius never came.  
And James felt even angrier.  
They finally reached King's Cross, and James quickly walked past his friends' compartment. None of them said a word to him. Not even Lily.  
He picked up his trunk from the storage car, and scanned the crowd for his family. Or what was left with it.  
They weren't there.  
His anger was boiling now. Fine. They wanted to play their game, and pretend to forget to pick him up, fine. He could play that game, too.  
  
Each year, Earl Katzenbaum drove the large shiny red steam engine in and out of Platform 9 ¾. Each year, he saw the random students in their Muggle clothing exit through the magical barricade and clamber off of the cars with excitement. Each year their hopeful parents picked them up, waving and smiling and giving them kisses and saying embarrassing things like "We have your bedroom all tidied up for you, Jason! It's a new shade of robin's egg blue."  
Each year, Katzenbaum saw the same scene with changing faces. He saw the first years grow to seventh years, and their brothers and sisters succeed them. So the hot June day of 1978 shouldn't have been any different.  
But it was. For the world was changing. And with it, people changed with it as well. This was the last ride that he had taken on the steam engine. He would never put on his conductor's cap again, and blow the whistle. He was retiring. His arthritis made it very difficult to work the gears and keep the train under control.  
Just as he was in thought, he saw a familiar face dwindle out of the crowd. He had seen one very much like it seven years ago. Except now the face was fuller, more alive, and confident.  
And the boy wasn't alone. No, he had his friends behind him.  
It was the monster. The thing that he had feared so many years ago. Now the monster had grown into a man, and he stood and faced the world with a new sort of determination and courage.  
If only Earl had that sort of spirit.  
And for a moment, the old engineer smiled at the creature. No one knew why. He didn't even know why. But there was something about that sight of a soul so powerful that he would not give up fighting until all of his fears and nightmares were dead . . . until every single scream in the night had been muffled and turned into laughter . . . something about that sight struck him as admirable.  
Earl Katzenbaum had been wrong about his little werewolf. 


	57. Chapter 56: His Worst Fear

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under thirteen: This is another PG-13 rated chapter. Thanks!)  
  
(Note to all readers: THIS FIC IS NOT OVER!)  
  
James had sat in the King's Cross entranceway for a good hour waiting for his father to pick him up and drive him home. His father had never come.  
  
"Fine," he said, throwing his shake in the trash bin on his way out. He would walk home. His dad wanted to give him the cold shoulder, fine.  
  
He walked out onto the sidewalk, dragging his trunk behind him. Dag hooted from his cage that was set dangerously ontop of it.  
  
"Shut up," he snapped, "Stupid bird. I swear . . ."  
  
It seemed quiet. Quieter than it should be.  
  
He crossed the street. It was four more blocks to his house. The clouds were coming in, and it looked like it was going to rain soon. He quickened his step, not wanting to get caught in the rain.  
  
He still remembered Frank's words to him. He still felt the quill in his hand. It had been a day ago, and yet . . .  
  
It still made him nauscious. At least Lily was happy.  
  
At least she would have a good life without him. He was a goner. A dead man.  
  
His white house came into view, and he heaved his trunk across the street and onto their walkway. Past the bushes, and up to the front door.  
  
He kicked the door in with one foot as he lagged his belongings into the main hall, through the living room, and up the stairs. Past Sirius's unoccupied room that was still filled with Chudley Cannon posters (including the one that they had picked out in Diagon Alley together), and into his own room. The walls were now plastered with posters of rock bands, and his dresser was covered with Quidditch cards and letters from his three friends that were left over from last summer. No one had been in here since summer.  
  
He didn't even know why he came back home. He should have gone to Sirius's. He could have slept on the couch. They did house Sirius for all that time. The least that he could do would be to offer James the spare mattress.  
  
And it seemed like no one was home. They didn't even care enough to be here when he returned.  
  
The last time that he had seen them was at the Graduation Ceremony. He hadn't spoken to them, and had ignored them the entire time.  
  
He set his things in his closet, and let Dag out for a breather. Then he headed for the bathroom down the hall. He mussed his hair as he passed his parents' room. The door was shut. That wasn't like them.  
  
He didn't think much of it, and continued onto the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he looked in the mirror to check out his hair.  
  
And a flash of an image flew through his head.  
  
He stared at the mirror, and then, in a rush, flew open the door and ran back down the hall to the bedroom.  
  
There, on the wood, next to the knob, was a message carved with a knife.  
  
Blood traitor.  
  
He could see his bedroom window from here. The sky above could be seen. The clouds had shifted. Now revealed, was a sight that he had missed on the way inside his home. There stood his worst fear.  
  
A skull. With a snake protruding from his mouth.  
  
James fell to his knees, and stared at it. It was all a bad dream. It hadn't happened. No, it hadn't happened. There was no possible way that . . .  
  
And then he opened the door.  
  
"It's going to be all right," Frank assured him as they sat in the living room. James wasn't responding to him. He had been screaming for the past hour. His voice was sore, but he didn't care. He had cried. He never cried in front of anyone before if he cold help it. He couldn't think anymore.  
  
Sprite. Mum. Dad.  
  
They were gone.  
  
The Minsitry officials were swarming his house. The one place on Earth that was supposed to be safe was now flanked by guards and bobbies and Order members. Well, only one Order member.  
  
Frank Longbottom handed him a cup of tea, but he didn't drink it. He just held it in his hands dumbly, not feeling the warmth of the liquid through the china. The china had been his mother's. Sprite had broken one of the sugar holders . . . they never used it after that . . . Mum always liked things perfectly complete . . .  
  
He felt the tears swarm down his face again, and Frank patted him on the back.  
  
"Your friend Black's on the way," he said calmly.  
  
"I don't want him to come," James cried, breaking away from Frank, "I don't want him to be anywhere near here."  
  
"Now surely you don't mean that," Frank said, taking the tea away from him.  
  
And James broke down into another train of tears. God, why was he crying? Don't cry. Don't let them see you like this.  
  
Cameras flashed everywhere around them. More people were upstairs, taking pictures of the door. And even more were outside, trying to capture the Dark Mark floating above their house on film for the Daily Prophet. Let them look. It wouldn't help his parents any.  
  
"Longbottom," a crochety old man from the kitchen shouted.  
  
Frank looked up, and the man ushered him to join him.  
  
"I'll be back in a minute," he said, and hoisted himself up onto his feet. James watched, eyes glazed over as he watched the two of them talk. Frank's face grew pale, and then he looked over to James, sympathetically. He sighed, scratched his head, and walked back over to the couch where he was sitting.  
  
"James," he said, sitting back down next to him, "We sent a few of our force over to your Uncle Charles's."  
  
"What?" James asked.  
  
"He's dead," Frank said, "With the same inscription on his front door. Your entire family is dead."  
  
The words hit him like cold ice. He froze, and his vision doubled. Everyone he had ever loved was dead. Everything had been stripped away from him in a matter of minutes.  
  
"Do you have anywhere where you can go?" Frank said.  
  
"He's coming home with me."  
  
James looked up, to the solemn face of Sirius Black, standing in his entranceway. Sirius had his motorcycle coat on, even if it was at least seventy degrees outside (which was hot for London). His face was pale, and his mouth was formed in a firm line.  
  
He didn't say anything else. James knew he was hurting, too.  
  
"We'll keep in touch with you," Frank said, and helped James to his feet. James rubbed his eyes, and tried to not let Sirius see that he had been crying.  
  
He couldn't walk. He didn't want to leave this house. It's all he had left.  
  
"Come on, mate," Sirius said quietly, letting James put an arm around his neck as he helped him out of the door, "It's gonna be okay."  
  
And the door shut behind them. James had a feeling that he would never enter that house again. That chapter in his life was over.  
  
Now came the new life.  
  
Sirius had taken him home to his flat. It had been late as they rode the lift up to his level, and then stepped out in the brown corridor to take a right to a door that had a sign attached to it. It read "Beware of Dog."  
  
It had been a present from James last Christmas, when everything seemed to be a little more perfect than it was now.  
  
His last words to his father pounded in his head to his heartbeat.  
  
"You're right, Dad. There are things worth fighting for. And pride isn't one of them."  
  
Each syllable stung now. He hadn't returned his mother's letters. Oh, God, how he would return them now if she would just write one more. If she would just . . .  
  
"It's all right," Sirius said quietly as James leaned on his shoulder again. The two of them just stood there, in the hallway. James crying into his friend's coat. Sirius embraced him like a brother, and said through his own tears, "It's going to be all right."  
  
"I was supposed to be there," he said, his voice muffled from the cloth of Sirius's sleeve, "I was supposed to die with them! But I waited at the station. I waited for them. And . . . and they never came . . . "  
  
"Come on," Sirius said, leading him to the door. He took out his keys, jiggled the knob, and then kicked the door open. It looked just like it did that night that he and Remus left it, out for a walk in the park.  
  
And the last time that he ever spoke to his father.  
  
Dad didn't deserve to be talked to like that. He had been a good man. He had always been there for him. He had always been a good father. How dare James sit there and yell at him as if he had abandoned them. He hadn't had a family like Sirius's! They had loved him! And he had pushed them away!  
  
God, how stupid could he have been!  
  
Lily had been right. He had been arrogant. He had pushed everyone that he loved away. And in the process, he had taken back any way of saying that he was sorry. He felt himself collapse as Sirius led him to the bedroom. Sirius picked him up, and helped him onto the bed.  
  
"I'll get you some tea," he said, quietly, "Just wait here."  
  
James didn't answer. The shell was back. For the third time in a year, the shell was back.  
  
Sirius felt his heart sink as he walked out of the bedroom to attempt to boil a pot of tea. Maybe he could do it this time without burning the building down.  
  
He still couldn't believe it. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were dead. Sprite was dead. They had been found in the bedroom, with that same vacant expression on their face. They had killed the house-elf.  
  
What sort of person didn't have enough mercy to spare a house-elf?  
  
Sirius's hand shook as he grabbed the tea kettle. God, why did everything happen to James? Why did everything have to be taken from him?  
  
Just don't let him cry again, Sirius thought to himself as he prepared their drinks, Just make him strong enough not to cry.  
  
Someone must have heard Sirius's prayers, because James was silent for the rest of the evening. He sat on the bed, looking out the small window across from him. The rain had started pouring hours ago, and he stared at it as it covered London in one cloud of darkness. The tea cup had been abandoned, and not touched. James just sat there, staring out of the window to the world in front of him.  
  
Sirius had taken his things out of his room, and placed them in a trunk. He was leaving for King's Cross the next day to meet Mr. England, whoever that may be. All of his clothes, personal belongings, and other assorted items were packed tightly in his school trunk. The letters reading "S.B." were faded, so that he could hardly make out what the initials were.  
  
It was midnight when Sirius finally took the extra set of sheets and pillows out of the closet and off of the mattress, and made himself at home on his sofa. He didn't want to bother James. He knew that what he was going through now was a lot harder than anything he could handle. He could hardly handle him crying.  
  
Sirius coughed, and layed down on the couch in the dark. The thunder sounded from outside, and lightning illuminated the rooftoops.  
  
He too was looking out the window opposite the couch, where the window seat lay. London was as beautiful as ever. Untouched by whatever harmed it. For eternity, its stone base standing strong against war, storms, hate . . . everything.  
  
It was forever alive.  
  
"Sirius," came a worn voice from inside the bedroom.  
  
Sirius jumped to attention, and stared through the doorway at the silhouette of James still sitting on the bed. It was illuminated by the streelights outside. His back was turned to him, but he knew that he wasn't crying anymore.  
  
"Yeah, Prongs?" Sirius said.  
  
"Could you come here for a second?"  
  
"Sure, mate," Sirius said, standing up, and shuffling sleepily to his bedroom. He rubbed his eyes, and took a seat in his desk chair, staring at the beaten boy on his bed.  
  
"You feeling better?" he asked doubtfully.  
  
It took a moment for James to find his voice, and then when he did speak, it wasn't in the tone that Sirius expected. It wasn't one of a beaten, worn out and chewed up man. It was one of a determined soldier.  
  
"My entire life all I wanted to do was protect my family," James said, "I know it's supposed to be the other way around, you know. The parents wanting to protect the children. But not me. I swore to myself that I would do whatever it took to keep them as safe as I could. But I failed at that. I wasn't there to stop him when he came to kill them. I wasn't there, Sirius. I wasn't there to stand up to him."  
  
"James . . . "  
  
"And you know why I wasn't there?" James plowed on, not really asking Sirius, but asking himself, "Because I was a coward. Because I was scared."  
  
"Look . . ."  
  
"But I'll never be a coward again," James continued, "No, never again."  
  
There was a quietness as the two boys that had known each other for so long sat, watching the rain fall outside.  
  
"I love her," James said, "I love Lily. And I will never let her die because of my fear. I will die before I let anyone harm her."  
  
"James, you're not a coward," Sirius started, but James shook his head.  
  
"I want revenge, Sirius," he said, finally looking at him for the first time. His eyes were blazing with fire, "I want revenge on the man who killed them. I want to be there to stop him when he comes after us. I'm not hiding anymore, Sirius. He wants me, I'll find him. He wants my friends, I'll stop him. And he wants to hurt the people that I love, I'll hurt him."  
  
"What are you going to do, James?" Sirius asked quietly, knowing perfectly well what his friend was going to do.  
  
James looked back out to the London streets, and took a breath.  
  
"What time are you leaving in the morning?" 


	58. Chapter 57: Mr England

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Lily Evans was the first to arrive at the locker room. It was crowded, and Muggles were pushing past her and her trunk as they unlocked their lockers with their keys, balancing their children on their hips, or reading the paper with one hand.  
  
Lily had worn sunglasses, and a scarf around her head to hide her red hair. Dumbledore had told them before they left that it would be better if they disguised themselves. She was also dressed in a Muggle businessswoman's suit, and holding the morning paper. She had borrowed the suit from her mother.  
  
She couldn't tell them where she was going.  
  
And Petunia didn't care where she was going.  
  
She still remembered the day that the letter had come. Her parents had been estatic, so happy for her. But her sister had just stared at her like she was some sort of freak. Like she was going to lash out with her wand and turn her into a toad.  
  
It was the exact same expression that she had given Remus in the Shrieking Shack.  
  
She felt a pang of guilt hit her, and she turned the page in the paper.  
  
"Oh, don't you look upclass."  
  
Lily jumped, and lowered her paper to come face to face with Remus, dressed in a brown trenchcoat and hat. He was carrying a small sack, filled with belongings.  
  
"Is that it?" she asked, looking at the sack.  
  
"Yeah," Remus said, sitting down next to her, "And I'd take off the sunglasses. We're in the middle of rainy season, and you're inside. Unless you're trying to act blind, it's not working."  
  
Lily smiled, and removed the glasses, sticking them in her pocket, "How's the scarf?"  
  
"Stylish," Remus commented, and leaned up against the wall behind him, watching the Muggles fly by before them.  
  
"Are the other two here yet?" he asked.  
  
Lily shook her head. The other two. Yes, there were only two of them coming after them. She would never see James again.  
  
He had stormed out of the train without saying goodbye. Her last glimpse of him was at the entranceway of King's Cross, drinking that shake, mussing his hair, and glaring at the doors. He was so angry.  
  
"Hey," Remus said, like he was reading her mind, "Don't worry about James. He'll bounce back. And he'll have a good life. You both will."  
  
Lily didn't want to cry.  
  
From the entrance of the locker room, a chubby and shorter man stood there, in mismatched Muggle clothes, holding the largest trunk that either of them had seen.  
  
"Hello, Moony . . . Lily," Peter said, dragging the trunk across the room with a sound like nails on a chalkboard. The surrounding Muggles covered their ears as the brass sidings scratched across the marble of the locker rooms.  
  
"Nice disguise, Peter," Remus said, his mouth twitching to form a smile, "Never would have guessed it was you."  
  
Peter, huffing and puffing, sat down next to Remus to breathe. Then he looked at Lily, and said, "So, did Prongs change his mind, yet?"  
  
"He's not going to," Lily said quietly.  
  
Peter nodded, "Right."  
  
"I'm going to miss him," Remus said, frowning, "I was always sure that he would join the Order."  
  
"Yeah," Peter agreed.  
  
It was a while before Sirius showed. He had no costume on whatsoever. He was wearing Muggle clothes, at least, and he looked like he had definitely just stepped off of his motorbike.  
  
And behind him, stood a skinny man with glasses and messed hair.  
  
The three of them sat staring at the two of them in shock as Sirius lagged his trunk, and James carried his backpack to where they were sitting.  
  
"James?" Peter squeaked.  
  
James nodded, and then looked to Lily. Lily was smiling broadly, and she jumped out of her seat and embraced him. He took a few steps back, being knocked off balance, but soon he was returning her hug. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she kissed him.  
  
"God, I thought I'd never see you again," she said, "I didn't want to go without you."  
  
"I know," James said quietly; his voice was scratchy. And his eyes were bloodshot.  
  
"You all right then, Prongs?" Remus asked as Sirius tiredly collapsed into the seat next to him.  
  
"They killed them," James said darkly, looking over Lily's shoulder, "My parents are dead."  
  
There was a silence that blanketed them for a moment, while they uncomfortably tried to think of what to say. No one knew that this had happened. None of them had had time to read the Daily Prophet that morning.  
  
"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly.  
  
James swallowed, as if trying to keep the tears from coming again. And then he said, "Well, something messes with one of us, it messes with all of us, right?"  
  
"Right," Remus replied, "You're right."  
  
"James, are you sure that you want to do this?" Lily whispered as he started to break away from her.  
  
"Yes," he said simply, "I should have done it in the first place."  
  
Lily nodded, and let him find a seat next to Sirius. Sirius cleared his throat, and crossed his arms. He sagged down in his chair, and then lay his head on the top of the chair. He then put his Muggle tape player over his ears, and started the tape inside. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.  
  
It had been a very long night. He had stayed up all night with James, trying to help him keep a hold of his sanity. Around three o' clock, James had said that he was hungry, and so Sirius went out to the corner store and got him snack food. James said that he needed help packing, Sirius helped him pack. He hadn't gotten any sleep for the past twenty four hours, and he felt like he was going to hurl right there on the marble floor.  
  
He always got sick when he didn't sleep.  
  
They waited for another hour. They didn't know why. Probably the Order was making sure that it was clear to go ahead and take them to their destination. But there wasn't a word exchanged between the five of them. Sirius had been snoring for the past half an hour, and no one had wanted to wake him. James had stared ahead of him, arms crossed, not saying anything. The music blaring from Sirius's Muggle invention was enough to make anyone go crazy, but it didn't bother him.  
  
Remus had left for a short while, and had returned with drinks for all. They sipped through their straws as Lily finished her paper, and Peter started to watch the Muggles passing them with interest.  
  
Another hour passed. It was two o' clock. Sirius was still asleep. And James was starting to get restless. Him and Remus switched seats so that he could sit next to Lily. Lily took off her shawl, and lay her head in his lap.  
  
"Why did you come back?" she asked quietly, so only he could hear.  
  
James sighed, and then said, "I saw your face."  
  
Lily looked into his bloodshot eyes and his tussled hair. And yet he wasn't broken. James took his strong hand and stroked her cheek.  
  
He met her eyes, and said truthfully, "I'll protect you. No matter what. I promise you."  
  
"You lied to me," Lily said, "You told me that you were going to sign the parchment."  
  
James didn't answer, but turned his eyes back to the scene in front of them.  
  
"Promise me that you won't hurt me, James," she said.  
  
He looked back at her, "What?"  
  
"Promise me that you won't hurt me," she repeated, "That you won't leave me. That you'll keep going. You have to promise me."  
  
James nodded, "I promise."  
  
It was six o' clock by the time that the man in the purple hat arrived. The five of them had sat there for six hours straight, waiting for him to come. And finally from the crowd, came a violet top hat bobbing along.  
  
Remus elbowed, Sirius, and he snorted. His eyes snapped open, and he sleepily put his tape player back into his trunk. The man was coming closer, and Lily sat up, putting her hair back into place. She still held James's hand.  
  
The man came closer to them, darting his eyes in every direction, trying to see if there was anyone watching.  
  
"Ah, good," he said nervously as he met them where they were sitting, "Right on time."  
  
Sirius snorted.  
  
Mr. England jumped, and blinked at Sirius. A look of fear came onto his face. And who could blame him? Sirius did look menacing in his biker clothes. The man in the violet top hat then turned to James, and blinked again.  
  
"I was told that I was going to have four recruits," he said.  
  
"Things change," James said menacingly.  
  
Mr. England jumped again, and nervously fidgetted with a pocket watch, "Yes, yes. Very well. Well, you know that you'll have to sign the contract when you arrive at Headquarters."  
  
James nodded in agreement, and then he ushered them to stand.  
  
"Well, we must stay on schedule," he muttered, "Come, follow me. This way."  
  
And he led them away from the station and into the entranceway, where they exited King's Cross and into the storming weather. It was evening, and black umbrellas could be seen everywhere as the rain pounded down ontop of them.  
  
A black limosine waited for them two blocks away, hiding in an alley. Mr. England waved them into the back seats. Sirius and James sat on either side of Lily, and Peter and Remus clambered into the seat across from them. Mr. England took his spot next to Peter, and then brandished his wand.  
  
"All right, everyone, this won't hurt a bit," he said.  
  
He muttered a spell to the ceiling, and the limosine could not be seen from out side. They were cloaked as the unknown driver sped out of the alleyway, and onto the busy street.  
  
"We couldn't take the train," he said, "Too risky. Too crowded. So we decided to use this transportation instead. The choice of transportation wasn't exactly my first choice, but it was the only thing that the Ministry had for our use."  
  
"Where are we going exactly?" Remus asked.  
  
"To Headquarters," he said, "My name is Dedalus. Dedalus Diggle. I've been chosen to take you there. Behind us, there's a cloaked car that is holding Emmeline Vance and Marlene McKinnon. In front of us, Kingsley Shacklebolt. And this," the limo's window that separated the passenger seats from the driver seat. A younger man that they had seen before smiled back, "Is Sturgis Podmore. I believe that you all know him?"  
  
"Yeah," Sirius growled, "He owes me money."  
  
Sturgis's smile faded, and he quickly rolled the window back into position.  
  
"You all will be going through an extensive training period with one of our best Aurors. I believe that you have already met him. Two months of living in Headquarters. Then you will be asked to relocate yourselves to new houses," he looked at Sirius, "This means you must leave your flat, and you, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew, and Miss Evans, must move out of your parent's house.  
  
"Then you will be members of the Order," he said, "And must follow what Dumbledore says. No questions asked."  
  
"No," Sirius said, and the jumpy man started, "He doesn't tell me what to do. I may have signed his little contract, but I live by my rules. I'm not letting him control what I say and do."  
  
"You signed the contract, Mr. Black," Diggle said, almost stuttering, "You signed your life away."  
  
Sirius's eyes hollowed.  
  
"You all knew what you were getting into," Diggle continued on.  
  
There was no answer from the five of them. Peter was fidgetting with his hands as the car sped forward out of London and into the countryside.  
  
Lily was holding James's hand. Sirius shifted uneasily as he saw this, and crossed his arms. He knew it was the way it was supposed to be.  
  
But something was still bothering him.  
  
Why had they spared James? James had thought that it was because he was at the station, but they had tracked down the rest of them. How hard could it have been for them to check King's Cross for him?  
  
There was something wrong with the scenario that James had painted. There was something that they didn't know about. 


	59. Chapter 58: Alastor Moody

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The limo pulled off of the road and into a suburb of London. Into a neighborhood with large houses with white shutters and black doors. Remus had never seen anything quite like it.  
"Looks like my neighborhood," Lily commented as they continued driving, "A little large than mine, but still."  
"This is one of the largest wizarding neighborhoods in the London metropolis," Diggle said, wringing his hands together, "We thought it may be less conspicuous to have neighbors that would except our visitors a little better than Muggles."  
The limo stopped, and quickly appeared. The window hiding Sturgis from sight rolled down, and he threw back six cloaks to Diggle. Diggle took them, and passed them out, instructing them to "Put this on, because we don't know who's watching. We're still trying to keep your names as secret as we can."  
They agreed, and quickly all of them were dressed in black, hoods pulled over their heads. Lily felt like a dementor.  
"And I wouldn't hold hands, if I were you," Diggle added to James and Lily, "We don't want anyone to know anything about any of you. Your gender, your relationships. Nothing. And hunch over a bit, so they can't predict your height."  
They nodded, and released each other.  
Two cars pulled up behind and in front of them, and two girls and the black man emerged from their front seats. Diggle smiled nervously at the five of them, and then said jovially, "It's time you met Moody properly."  
The doors opened, and the five of them stepped into the light, covering their faces with the cloaks. They hunched over, as instructed, and walked to the front door of a larger house. Trash bins were lined across the sidewalk, and it seemed like they were extremely quiet and ominous.  
The house was Victorian, and very old. It was white, with black windows and a large black door. Curtains from the upstairs rooms billowed out of the windows, as if the house was reaching out to them. The paint was chipped, and the chimney looked worn enough to fall at any time. The wrap around porch sported a swing, and on the windows behind the swing, pictures that seemed to be drawn by a child. Taking a closer look, Lily realized that it was a red bird, emerging out of a fire. But they still didn't know what was so important about this house.  
"What is this place?" Lily whispered, trying to disguise her voice.  
None of them could really answer. They were supposed to go to the Headquarters, but . . . where were the Headquarters?  
"Oh, that's right," Diggle said, coughing, and pulling five pieces of paper out of his violet top hat, "Sorry. Forgot to give you these."  
Each of the recruits took a paper, and peered at it. It was in writing that they had seen many times. Dumbledore's.  
  
The Headquarters to Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix is at Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody's residence.  
  
They then all looked back at the house, and realized that this was it. This was where they were to live for the next two months.  
Kingsley, Marlene, and Emmeline dragged their luggage behind them as they climbed the stairs to the porch. Diggle led them to the door, and knocked three times.  
It was a moment before they heard a groan, and a shuffle to the entranceway.  
"Who is it?" a gruff voice came from behind the door.  
"It's Father Christmas. Happy Christmas, Alastor," Diggle said, a little peeved, "Of course you know who it is. You've only been watching us through the door since . . ."  
"Don't you say my name out loud, you idiot!" the voice came.  
"It's Mr. England, back with the five," Diggle said, jumping at the tone, and then he readjusted his top hat.  
"Five?" the voice said, "There were supposed to be only four."  
"It's James Potter," James spoke up, "I'm the fifth one."  
There was another silence. He felt as if something was examining him through the closed door. Finally there was a breath of realization, and the gruff voice came again.  
"Ah, Harold's son," he said, "Heard about him. Good man. But there are sacrifices . . ."  
James glared at the door, not liking whoever was behind it.  
And then he found out.  
The door opened, and there, standing in his black robes. His face looked like it wa cut out of wood. Scars from battles long forgotten still held onto his face, and his long black hair fell into his face in greasy locks. But the thing that made Lily turn away was the swiveling eye that was darting back and forth between the new visitors.  
"Come in," he said, leading them into the front room, "Come in. We can't talk out here. Who knows who may be watching."  
The ten of them followed this new man into the house, and the scarred Auror shut the door behind them.  
From the looks of the house, it had been bewitched to be even larger than what the outside suggested. It was also a lot newer than the outside of the Victorian. In front of them stood the large living room, which was filled with blueprints, chalkboards, and chairs. Next to it lay the dining room, where the largest table that any of them had ever seen sat, set for more than twenty guests. And between these two rooms, was a large spiraling staircase that led to the upstairs.  
"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix," the Auror said, and then extended his hand to the five newcomers as they took their cloaks off, "I am Alastor Moody. This is my home. And I presume that you are Lily Evans?"  
Lily took his hand, and he kissed it, "Pleasure to have another lady on board," he turned to Remus, "Ah, and you. Yes, I've been looking forward to meeting you. We will have to talk a little later about your little monthly problem, hey?"  
Remus nodded solemnly.  
"And Pettigrew," Moody shook hands with Peter, "Welcome."  
He turned to Sirius, who was still looking rather fierce, and smiled the broadest, but the fakest, "Ah, Mr. Sirius Black. Aren't you just the diamond in the rough."  
Sirius didn't like his tone of voice, and didn't shake his hand. Moody didn't seem touched by it, but he kept his swiveling eye on him as he turned to James.  
"And James Potter," he said, "Your father would be proud of your decision. Come, before we tell you anything more, you must sign the contract."  
James followed Moody into the living room, where a large cabinet stood against the wall. Moody opened it, and brandished the old piece of parchment.  
"Go ahead," he said, taking a quill out of his cloak, "Sign away."  
James took the parchment and the quill, and wrote his name very large next to Sirius's. He had a look of determination in his eyes that he had never had before. He was supposed to be here. It was meant to be.  
"Very well," Moody said, and threw the parchment into the cabinet, "I told Albus that it was ruddy irresponsible to have all of our names on that contract, but he seems to think that it would be helpful to put our priorities in line. Follow me. I'll show you to your rooms."  
They followed him out of the living room, and up the spiraling staircase.  
"You want to take this?" Kingsley muttered to Diggle as he struggled with Lily's trunk, "I need to get going."  
"Oh, of course," Diggle said, shaking with glee as he took the trunk. James saw the image of Sprite, trying to help Sirius with his luggage that one day long ago when everything seemed perfect.  
God, had it been that long ago?  
He turned away from Mr. Diggle, and continued into the corridor at the top of the stairs. Moody, hunched posture and all, pointed to five rooms.  
"Each one of you gets one," he said, "The house is big enough that everyone can have their own room. Be grateful for that. When we were starting off, the Ministry had us in a house so small that there were five to a room."  
"Ah, come on, Mad Eye," Marlene said from behind the boys, "Hurry it up."  
  
"Shut up," Moody snarled, and kicked one of the doors open, "You," he said, pointing to Peter, "This is where you'll be staying."  
Peter nodded without a word, and took his trunk from Marlene behind him. He disappeared into the room, and Moody said as he shut the door, "We will expect you in the living room in two hours."  
Then Moody slammed the door, and strode to the next door, "Sirius Black," he said, opening a door, "Today's your lucky day. My room is right next to yours. You know, these walls are very thin, Black. Almost thin enough to send a spell hurdling through. You know, just in case I heard something."  
Sirius glared, "How convenient," he growled.  
He took his trunk from Diggle, and shoved past Moody. His eye followed him, and still was looking straight through the door as Sirius slammed it in his face.  
"And James," he said, turning his other eye to look at him,"We weren't prepared for you, but for now you can have this room."  
Moody crossed the hall, and opened another door. The room was completely white, with one bed and a mattress on the frame. James, with only his backpack on his back, walked in, and waved to Lily, "I'll meet you downstairs," he said.  
"Right you will," Moody grumbled as James set his pack on the mattress, "Oh, will Albus be surprised when he hears about you."  
He then continued down the hall, with the remaining two recruits and their baggage carriers. He opened a door next to James's room, and ushered Lily inside, "There you go, Miss Evans. Marlene took the liberty of adding some feminine touches to the room. Enjoy."  
And as soon as Lily entered the room, Moody again slammed the door, and then looked to Marlene, Emmeline and Diggle. They were out of luggage, except for the small sack that Remus had brought, "It doesn't take three people to carry a sack," he barked, "Give the lad his things, and go."  
Without argument, they handed Remus the bag, and made their way down the spiral staircase.  
"Now you are a special case," Moody said in his low voice as they continued down the hall, "I know all about the Shrieking Shack and Albus's ingenious idea about tying you up and letting you scratch yourself to death."  
Remus didn't answer.  
"Do you consider yourself dangerous?" Moody plowed on.  
"Yes," Remus answered simply.  
Moody's swiveling eye rolled back in its socket to look at Remus from the back of his skull, "You aren't ashamed of it?"  
"I'm tired of being ashamed of it," he answered, his mouth in a firm line, "I'm fighting it. It's gotten better."  
"As I've heard," Moody commented, "It seems that you've gotten a hold of yourself a little better than when you started at Hogwarts. Sort of eerie how that happened all of a sudden, hey? Being a full out monster, to a tame wolf at night, hey?"  
Remus didn't answer.  
"But I believe that, as long as we lock your door at night, you could just transform in your room perfectly well," Moody said, "That sounds like it should work?"  
Remus swallowed. He would be caged again, with the wolf laughing at him. But he didn't shift his expression. He just looked at the back of Moody's head, knowing perfectly well that the magical eye was still staring at him.  
"It sounds fine," he said bravely.  
"Good, good," Moody said, and then came to the last door, "And your friends know about your condition?"  
"Yes," he said.  
"Well, then it won't bother them to hear you every month," Moody said, and opened the door. It was a little shabbier than the others' since it was the last room on the floor, alienated from all the others.  
"It could use some work," Moody said, pushing him in, "But it's only for two months. Enjoy."  
And he slammed the door in Remus's face.  
Remus looked around the room, seeing his small view of the house next to them through the tiny window. A chest of drawers stood opposite his bed, and a closet could be seen on the other wall. It was cozy. No lighting, except for a small candle wick on the chest of drawers. The paint was peeling off of the walls, and Remus could swear he saw a stain on the bedsheets that he couldn't quite identify. It looked like some sort of food, after being mixed with stomach acids.  
He threw his sack of robes and money on the bed, and rummaged through his few belongings, looking for a certain item. He found it, and held it in his hands.  
Je ne vais pas mort.  
He opened the music box, and the haunting tune seeped through the silver, and echoed through the room. June had given it to him to spur him on. And now Remus sat it on his chests of drawers, and stared at it. The wolf would be back to laugh at him. And this time, he would be ready.  
Remus then went to look out the window. He wasn't used to being cooped up like this. He was used to his cabin, with the woods as his playground.  
He felt like he was suffocating.  
Why had Moody put him in this hole? What had he done to deserve this?  
Get used to it, Remus thought to himself, Like Snape said, it's a harsh world out there. 


	60. Chapter 59: Twenty Doomed Souls

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
It was later that night that the five recruits found themselves meeting in the halls, clothes changed into casual dress, and awkwardly walking down the spiral staircase to the entrance hall. And then into the living room.  
They all came to a halt as they stared at the scene before them. The seats were filled with people, all talking excitedly to one another. There was a good crowd of them, and yet, not enough to be impressive. Headmaster Dumbledore, flanked by Mad-Eye Moody and Frank Longbottom, stood at the front of the group, arms crossed. His glint in his eye shined behind the half moon glasses as he spotted the five of them standing there in the doorway.  
"Ah, come in," he ushered them forward, and the five couldn't refuse. They felt themselves walking forward, through the group of people and to the front of the room. James recognized all of them. And they recognized him. As he approached Dumbledore, the twinkle in the old man's eye became brighter, and he could hear the chattering whispers from the crowd.  
"Is that the Potter boy?"  
"I thought that he hadn't signed."  
"Going to take his father's place, no doubt."  
"Welcome our five recruits to the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore addressed the seated people. They fell silent, "This is a combination of the greatest minds, agility, and loyalty found in the graduating class of 1978 from Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
"Weren't we only expecting four?" someone with an odd hat and a raspy voice said from the back row.  
"Elphias, watch your manners," an old witch in slippers tutted, "You know as well as I do what he's doing here," and then she turned to Dumbledore, and nodded, "Go on, Albus."  
"Thank you, Arabella," Dumbledore cleared his throat, and then announced, "Starting to the left, please welcome Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and James Potter."  
"It is the Potter boy!" Elphias shouted out.  
James's face darkened.  
"Hey, how about you shut it before I go over there and make you," Sirius barked.  
Elphias blinked, "You're a Black, aren't you?"  
Sirius narrowed his eyes, but didn't say a word.  
"Nice picking, Albus," Elphias commented, "A Black and a werewolf. Choices must have been slim this year."  
  
Sirius took a step forward, but Remus, who was standing next to him, took his arm, and held him back. But now both of them were glaring knives at him.  
"I will ask you to refrain from speaking your opinions, Elphias. They are very dangerous to your health," Dumbledore warned, "We are all on the same side here. I thought you would have found that out seven years ago."  
Elphias gave one more discerning look to Sirius and Remus, and then closed his mouth, glaring at Dumbledore. He was an older man, maybe a little younger than Dumbledore. And that hat made him look even more ridiculous.  
"I will ask each of you to stand," Dumbledore said, "And introduce yourselves to our new members. Starting with you, Arabella, if you don't mind."  
"Oh, not at all, Albus," the woman in the slippers said, and she stood, coughing. She had a bright cheery face, and looked almost as old as Professor McGonagall.  
"I'm Arabella Figg," she said, speaking from the back row corner in a larger than life voice, "Member of the Order since 1973. Sadly, I can't do as much as most here. You see, I'm a squib. But I do much undercover work in the Muggle communities. It's nice to meet you all."  
Lily smiled, and the boys nodded a hello. Elphias was next, but he didn't stand. He mumbled, "Elphias Doge. Wizard. Member since 1972." He didn't elaborate.  
Next to him, towered a burly man that they had all known throughout their school years. He had always been in the shadows of the Forest, showing up unexpectantly when they had been exploring. The giant twelve- foot figure of Rubeus Hagrid stood, his pink umbrella in his hand. He cleared his throat, and said, "Rubeus Hagrid. Memb'r since 1972. Ah knew tha' ya'd come around, James," he added, beaming at James, and then he took his seat. They swore that they could feel the floor shake.  
Next came the violet top hat, "Dedalus Diggle. Wizard. Member since 1974. We've met, I believe."  
Sirius looked to him, and he jumped, his hat falling lopsided. He shrank down in his chair.  
"Emmeline Vance," Emmeline stood, brushing her cloak, "Member since 1977. Welcome to the Order."  
Next to her stood the McKinnon girl, who had bright brown hair and sparkling eyes. Yet there was something sad about her as she turned to address them. She only looked twenty or so, yet she smiled the largest, "Marlene McKinnon. Member since 1973, when my father was killed in a massacre. Been trying to find the person who killed him ever since it happened," she looked to James, "Glad to see you joined," she winked, "Hope Moody didn't scare you off too badly. He's harmless."  
"Sit down," Moody ordered.  
Marlene did as she was told, as a man with a balding head stood, "Edgar Bones. Wizard. Member since 1972. And I believe that Albus picked the best that he could this year. I have full confidence in all of you."  
"Alice Longbottom," a cheery, roundish woman said, standing up to attention, "Witch. Member since 1973. My husband and I are liasons for the Ministry of Magic. And I agree with Edgar."  
"Benjy Fenwick," one of the graduates of last year announced, "Member since 1977. Glad to see you well again."  
"Caradoc Dearborn," the next one said, "Member since 1977."  
A woman stood again, looking rather sharp and serious, "Dorcas Meadows. Member since 1974. Auror of fourteen years. Killed twenty Death Eaters in the past four years," she looked to Sirius, "I keep count."  
Sirius's mouth hung open, as she sat down, and then gave a fearful look to James.  
The next to stand was Professor McGonagall, still dressed in her green robes. She smiled warmly at Remus, "Minerva McGonagall. Teacher at Hogwarts School. Member since 1972. It's nice to see that you all made it in one piece."  
The twins Gideon and Fabian stood together, and Fabian announced, "Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Graduated last year. Became members fresh out of school. It's the right choice, guys."  
Sirius nodded.  
They sat, and the black man with a bald head stood, "Kingsley Shacklebolt. Works for the Ministry of Magic. Auror of a few good years."  
"Taught him all I know," Moody glowed from behind Dumbledore.  
"Member since 1975," Kingsley said, "Glad to see that the recruits are here."  
Sturgis stood, and said, "Yeah, you all know me. Hey again."  
"Where's the money," Sirius growled.  
Sturgis gulped, growing pale, and sat back down quickly.  
Frank stepped out of his place behind Dumbledore, and faced the five recruits, "Frank Longbottom. Third in command. Member since 1972. Welomce to the Order," he shook all of their hands. He was a handsome man, possibly in his earlier thirties. He had done so much in a short period of time. Enough to get his face on a Chocolate Frog card.  
He had been James's hero growing up. But now James remembered him crying his eyes out in front of Frank, and he felt nauscious.  
Moody stood now, taking Frank's place, and said, "Alastor Moody. Second in command. Member since 1972. This is my home. Hope you five can last longer than some of the other recruits we've had in here."  
He had a small smile on his face as he walked back into position. Dumbledore then faced them as an equal, his eyes still twinkling.  
"And my brother could not make it tonight," he said, "Aberforth is usually very busy. But I am the first in command in this group, and very pleased to see that you all have made it safely and soundly."  
"Twenty five members," he continued, "Counting you. You all understand what this job entails? You all know the risks involved? This is your last chance to leave. We will be more than happy to put a Memory Charm on any of you. But as soon as you rise tomorrow at dawn, you will be bound to your signature, and more importantly, your word."  
They all nodded.  
"We are the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said, waving his hand around the room, "We fear nothing. We stop at nothing to protect the free world. Your life no longer revolves around yourself, as adolescents like yourselves like to believe. It revolves something larger. Something more significant than any of our lives."  
"Bravery," Frank said, from behind Dumbledore, "Trust. And Spirit. The three things that will keep you motivated for the next few years."  
"Or however long it takes," Moody said, "We all have our stories, children. We all are here for a reason. We are not alone."  
They all nodded again, and the entire group of members glowed brightly with pride.  
"Fine choices," Alice said in her bubbly voice from her chair, "Fine choices, Albus."  
"Well, now that we have that settled," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together, "Let's eat. I hear that we have an excellent feast waiting for us in the next room over. Shall we?"  
  
Sirius yawned as he stumbled upstairs. He hadn't slept since the six hour wait in the locker room. And even then it had been a restless sleep. He felt like his body was made of lead.  
His life had changed drastically in the past day. People that he had loved and cared about were dead. He had been whisked off on some supernatural quest to rid the world of evil. And now he didn't even own his life.  
The worst thing was that that crazy crackpot was sleeping right next door. During dinner, the scene at the Leaky Cauldron had played itself over in his head. A man named Alastor saying that he didn't trust one of the recruits. And he knew which one it was.  
He opened his door, and walked into his dark room. He fell on his bed. He was a slave to these people. They had taken everything that he owned, and had bought him. He did what they wanted him to do. He slept where they told him to sleep. They told him to get rid of his flat, he had to.  
But as long as he could see some action in battle, he didn't care.  
He closed his eyes. He was so tired. He opened them again slowly, and felt the wind from the open window brush against his face. He brushed his loose hair out of his eyes, and stared at the white ceiling above him.  
Visions of Mr. and Mrs. Potter danced across the ceiling. Them smiling, on Christmas Day, as they watched him open his presents that they had bought for him. His mother had never looked at him like that. His mother hated him.  
Mrs. Potter had cared about him.  
She had housed him, tried to protect him from the world, tried to help him. And now she was dead.  
What were they thinking when they died?  
Had they seen their attacker?  
What did one think about when they died?  
  
When would he die?  
"No," Sirius snapped to attention, and grabbed his tape player from his pillow, "No, we're not thinking about that."  
He put on his headphones, and sighed. Pushing the button, all of the world disappeared under the blaring of his music.  
And his vision doubled. His lids closed, and he saw darkness.  
"Padfoot?"  
Sirius opened his eyes, and stared at his trunk. A voice had come from underneath the clothes. He jumped to his feet, and scrambled through his belongings, until he came to an old mirror. He smiled as he saw James's face appear in the glass. The white room was behind him.  
"Hey, Prongs," he said, "Having trouble sleeping?"  
"You look tired," James commented.  
Sirius snorted, "That's an understatement."  
"Then I won't be long," he sighed, and mussed his hair, "I just wanted to say thanks."  
Sirius blinked, "For what?"  
"For everything," he said, "For taking me home and being there for me."  
Sirius grinned, "Well, what are friends for."  
"Yeah, I guess," James smiled back, "But thanks."  
BAAM!  
Sirius jumped, and stood up, letting the mirror drop back into the trunk.  
And in front of him, was a large hole in the wall that separated him and the nutter next door. Sure enough, there was his neighbor, holding his wand, and his swiveling eye darting around the room.  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Sirius demanded, throwing his tape player on the floor. He flew out of bed, and stormed over to the rigid silhouette of Alastor Moody, who was still holding his wand at him.  
"The same could be asked of you," Moody snarled, jabbing his wand closer to Sirius's nose. Sirius grabbed his wand, and threw it into Moody's room with a powerful arm. It clattered on the other room's ground, and Moody glared at him, the eye dead set on his two eyes.  
"You go pointing that thing at me again, and I'll make sure that you never make a hole in anyone's wall again," Sirius barked, "You crazy old loon!"  
"You were speaking to someone," Moody growled back, brandishing a spare wand from his night robes, "And I want to know who you were speaking to."  
  
"None of your damn business," Sirius snarled.  
"I heard voices through my wall," he said, jabbing the wand again at Sirius.  
"THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU BLOW IT TO BITS!" Sirius shouted, taking the spare wand from his hand, and throwing it to meet its successor on the floor.  
Moody narrowed his eyes, and pulled out a third one, "I'm watching you, Black. One wrong move, and I'll be breathing down your neck."  
  
"Go ahead," Sirius barked, "You've done a pretty damn good job of it so far. Great hospitality you Order Members have. Or are you too busy polishing your golden thrones to worry about such insignificant things?"  
Moody's eye had stopped swiveling.  
"I've killed men like you," he hissed, "I've killed them without a second thought."  
And then he turned around, his eye now darting around at the wall's hole. He walked back into his side of the room.  
"No, you haven't," Sirius growled at his back.  
Moody stopped, and Sirius knew that his eye was looking right at him through the back of his head.  
"You're the one that they call merciful," Sirius said, "You give them fair trials."  
Moody didn't answer, but clenched his fists, and continued into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, crossed his legs, and stared at Sirius through the hole in the wall, both eyes still set on him. Sirius groaned, giving up, lay back down in his bed, and tried to go to sleep as Moody stared at him, drinking from his hip flask. 


	61. Chapter 60: Attack in the Night

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under 13: This chapter is on the verge of PG-13. If you don't like gore or anything, don't read.)  
  
The music box chimed in Remus's hand. It was three in the morning, and he hadn't drifted off to sleep yet. He lay in his broken bed (a spring from one of the mattresses had borne through the top), staring at the ceiling, listening to the tune that sounded in his ears.  
How many more days until his transformation?  
He gripped the music box closer to his chest. Not few enough.  
  
Down the hall, James was also wide awake. The vision of the three of them on the bed . . . it kept replaying itself in his head. He wanted to forget it all. He wanted to go on with his life. But he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't.  
A sound from outside. He blinked, and came to attention. What was going on?  
He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak out of his pack, and draped it around him. He slowly crossed to the door, and opened it to peer into the hallway.  
Voices were coming from downstairs.  
They were gruff. Not like the sweetened ones of the Order. Not like the rough one of Moody. They were new voices.  
"Where are the recruits?" a man asked one of the others.  
"Upstairs," the reply came, "In separate bedrooms."  
  
James crept to the top of the spiral staircase, and looked onto the scene below.  
And he couldn't believe the sight that he saw.  
A group of Death Eaters stood in the entrance hall, holding their wands out at the walls. They all had their masks draped over their faces, with their long black cloaks engulfing their bodies. They whispered to each other as they headed closer to the staircase. They were like shadows in the night, without any mercy or regret of murder. They were monsters.  
"Let us kill them," a woman's voice came from the back. It sounded strangely familiar. Had that drawling voice been in the park? Where had he heard it before?  
He felt his heart sink. They were going to kill them. They were at the Headquarters! They had found out everything!  
The first night there, and already they were dead.  
No, James thought, the fire blazing into his heart, No. We are not dead.  
"SIRIUS! LILY!" James shouted, throwing the Cloak off of him. The Death Eaters stopped, and stared at James in surprise as he appeared in front of them. The moonlight draped through the closest window, and illuminated James's determined face.  
"EXPELLIRAMUS!" he screamed, pointing his own wand at them. One of them fell off of the staircase, and onto the marble floor below. They gave a groan, and one of the Death Eaters gave out a gasp.  
A gasp?  
They gasped?  
Sirius and Lily flew out of their rooms, and Remus could be seen running down the hallway, in his robes. Peter dashed into the corridor. They all had their wands out, and a fearful expression on their faces.  
James still held his wand out to the approaching Death Eaters as they climbed their way up the stairs towards them.  
"It's the Potter brat," one of the men said, "He's one of the recruits. Kill him."  
Sirius heard the voice, and his eyes became hollow. He jumped in front of James as the Death Eaters scaled the stairs and ran towards them.  
A jet of light shot out of his wand, and threw three of them up against the wall.  
Another jet of light came flying back from one of the Death Eaters, and slashed Sirius across the arm. Blood trickled onto his robes, but it just made him angrier.  
"You shouldn't have done that," he said, his lips snarling into an evil grin.  
"EXPELLIRAMUS!" the five of the shouted at the same time, and a flash of white blinding light protruded from all five of their wands. The Death Eaters were flown back off of their feet.  
Lily held her wand with both hands as the jet of light shot out of the end of it. It was vibrating in her hands, with the force of a lightning bolt. Sirius laughed as he saw the Death Eaters become still, and then the light die away.  
But Remus, who was behind the other three, just stared at the mound of cloaked strangers in awe. It had been so easy to fight them. Too easy. He remembered the park . . .  
"Guys," Remus said quietly, "Guys, these aren't Death Eaters."  
Sirius, James, and Lily turned around to stare at him in disbelief.  
"What?" Sirius chortled, "Are there some other nutters in masks and capes that I should know about?"  
"He is correct, Mr. Black."  
Sirius whipped around, to come face to face with Alastor Moody, standing in the midst of the fallen Death Eaters. He was holding a white mask in his hands, and wearing a black robe.  
"You," Sirius said, pointing his wand at him, "You're one of them."  
"Moody, a Death Eater?"  
The five of them turned their attention to one of the fallen bodies. They had taken their masks off, and now were standing to face them. It was Marlene McKinnon.  
"That's a good one," she laughed, as they stared at her in disbelief.  
And then, one by one, the Death Eaters removed their masks to reveal the faces of the Order members. The five recruits' jaws dropped as they stood.  
"It was a test," Frank Longbottom's voice came from behind all of them. He was walking up the stairs, rubbing his back. He had been the Death Eater that James had thrown off of the staircase, "To see your loyalty. And I believe that you passed. Am I right, Mad Eye?"  
Moody nodded slowly, looking at Sirius with narrowed eyes.  
"Yes," he said, and then turned back to all of them, "Good show, good show. Now get back to where you belong."  
The five still stood in the hallway, not knowing what to say. As the members dispersed, some of them walking back downstairs and others into vacant rooms, they stared at all of them in astonishment.  
"Very impressive," Moody said, trudging to where they were standing, "Great teamwork. Maybe next time you could put a spell better than "Expelliramus" to use, hey? Not going to work on real Death Eaters too well. Now," he said, clasping his hands together, "I believe that it's nearly morning. So let's get going down the kitchen to fix me some breakfast, hey?"  
They stared at him increduously.  
"It's three o clock in the morning," Sirius said.  
"I know how to read time, Mr. Black," Moody said, looking to him, "And the key phrase of 'three o' clock in the morning' is 'morning.' So, if you don't mind," he said, drawing closer to him, "I enjoy my eggs over easy. And don't try to burn the toast."  
  
Sirius glared, and his eyes hollowed again.  
"Yes, sir," he spat, and James and the others brushed past him, still in a state of shock. He followed them to the staircase.  
"Oh, and Mr. Black?"  
Sirius turned around, gritting his teeth, "Yes?"  
Moody had his eye right on him again, and his lip was pursed, "This is no laughing matter. So I would appreciate it if next time you're trying to kill a life, you don't guffaw about it like a blubbering idiot. Are we agreed?"  
"Do I have a choice?" he hissed, and then stomped down the stairs after the others.  
  
"Wasn't very funny," James said, sipping a cup of tea as Sirius buttered a piece of toast on the countertop, grumbling to himself.  
Remus, from across the table, shrugged, "I can't blame them. That Elphias is right. We aren't the most trustworthy group that they could pick."  
"A bunch of mad gits," Sirius huffed as he threw the plate of toast on the table with a clatter, "That Mad-Eye blew a hole big enough to walk through in my wall last night. Just because he heard me talking to you," he said to James.  
"He doesn't like you very much, does he?" Peter said, sitting down next to Lily. Lily didn't look as gorgeous in the morning. Her persona of Morgana, Queen of the Underworld was a better definition for her at the moment. Her hair wasn't brushed, and sticking out on all sides of her head. And there were dark circles under her eyes.  
"Whatever gave you that impression?" Sirius sat down in his chair, and glared at the toast, "I'm watching you, Mr. Black," he mocked him, "I'm keeping my eye on you, Mr. Black. Make me my breakfast, Mr. Black."  
"You think that he's the Auror that's teaching us?" Remus asked.  
"I wouldn't trust anyone else."  
The five of them looked at the entranceway to the kitchen, and saw Moody, his arms folded and glaring at all of them.  
"Who knows who's spying on us as we speak," he said, "You think that I'd let anyone else teach you the ways? Taking the chance that they soften you up or some other rubbish?"  
They didn't answer, as he crossed through the kitchen, and to the dining room table where they were sitting. He examined the plate of toast, and then gave out a laugh. He just laughed and laughed, and his eye swiveled to look at Sirius.  
"Ah," he said, his face growing cold. With one sweep of his wand, the plate flew from the table, and crashed against the wall.  
"I didn't see any eggs, Mr. Black," he snarled, "Go back and do it right."  
Sirius glared at him, and stood up. He walked back into the kitchen, scowling.  
Moody took Sirius's now vacant seat, and folded his hands on the table. His eye darted from James to Lily, to Remus to Peter. They all stared at it in fascination.  
"You think that after seven years of Defense Against the Dark Arts, you'd know a better spell than Expelliramus," he commented, and took James's tea. He took a sip of it, and then gave it back to him, "Someone must not have been listening during class."  
"We had a lot of teachers," Remus explained, "Not all of them continued where the other left off."  
  
"Michael was one of the best Aurors that I have ever encountered," Moody defended June, "And, of course, you know all about his son, Lupin?"  
Remus nodded.  
"Yes, I knew Jonathon," Moody continued, his swiveling eye looking to the ceiling in reminiscence, "Young spirit. Very young."  
"How did he die?" Remus asked.  
Moody coughed, "Well, he was in the Order with his father. He didn't last long. I believe it was him that was the one that got captured by those clowns in masks . . . yes, he was the one. Well, they did a good job on him, that's for sure. Stuck him in a room by himself, and let him go at it. You know, just left it up to Jonathon to dispose of himself."  
Remus tried not to look frightened as Moody's swiveling eye turned to rest upon him.  
"Well, as soon as Mr. Black is done fiddling with his cooking, you'll be putting things in perspective for yourselves. We have a little field trip planned," he said, sighing, as he popped his eye out to polish it. Lily turned away in disgust at the empty socket, "I wonder what's taking him so long. Messing around in the kitchen."  
There was a growl from the kitchen, and Moody looked very content, "Well, Mr. Black, I specifically asked you for eggs." 


	62. Chapter 61: The Memorial

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
After Moody had finished his breakfast ("can't work on an empty stomach, now can you?"), the six of them trekked into the entrance hall, and was handed six cloaks. This time, they were Invisibility Cloaks, and they all six disappeared from sight.  
"Diggle," Moody informed the violet top hat that had handed them to him, as he wrapped it around his body. His head floated in mid air, "Tell Jeremiah that we will be meeting him in his office in two minutes."  
Then, while the five recruits walked towards the doors, Moody sped into the living room, and headed for the fireplace.  
"Follow me," he growled as they stared at his floating head. He was placing a bowler hat over his eye, "That way is too risky."  
Sirius groaned again, but followed his four friends to the living room. Moody's hand was protruding from the Cloak as he took a handful of Floo Powder. The others followed his example, and Moody said, "Now keep your cloaks on at all times. We don't want anyone seeing you if they're watching. Remember, you all are recruits. They know you're not strong enough yet. They'll pick you off faster than you can say 'Aveda Kedavra.'"  
Moody cleared his throat, and stepped into the fire, "Jeremiah's office, Ministry of Magic."  
  
And then in a flame of light, he was gone.  
James stepped forward into the hearth, and shouted, "Jeremiah's office, Ministry of Magic." He dropped the Powder into the ash, and a fire engulfed him. He felt himself whizzing through thousands of fireplaces, the insides of houses flying before his eyes. Finally, right before he was going to hurl, he fell headfirst into a very large and very official looking office.  
"Ah, James," Moody was dusting himself off as he took a seat in a chair facing a rather formally dressed desk. He could see the pictures of the inhabitant's family smiling, and waving to him, "Come sit. It will only be a few minutes."  
Just as James stood, another body rolled out of the fireplace. It was Lily. She coughed, and pushed her hair out of her face. James helped her up, and they walked together to a couch in the corner. Just as they were sitting, a howling Peter emerged from the hearth. Followed by Remus, and finally Sirius. All of their cloaks had gotten lost in the ride.  
The three of them clambered onto the couch next to James and Lily, and then waited for an explanation from Moody. But Moody had gone to drinking from his hip flask again, and humming to himself.  
Sirius gave Remus a look that said, Told you he was nutters.  
The door opened, and a official looking wizard in a pinstriped robe came gliding into the room. He was pale, with sandy blond hair that practically stood on end. He had a small beard that had begun to gray, and beady eyes that blinked very rapidly. He looked to Moody, and then smiled broadly.  
"Ah, Alastor," he said in the lowest voice that any one of them had ever heard, "Good to see you again. These are the recruits, I'm guessing?"  
Moody stood, and waved his hand to him, "Yeah, they are. Showing them the way things are done for a few months before they actually get started. So they don't blow themselves up the first day on the job," then he turned to the five and said, "This is Jeremiah Toddles, the Minister of Magic. He supports our Order very much."  
"As I always will," Toddles said, extending his hand to James, who had stood to face him. He peered at him for a moment, and then said, "Ah, you're the Potter boy. Didn't you give us all quite a scare?" then he turned to Moody, "It's him that is to do it, I'm guessing?"  
"Yes," Moody said, turning very solemn, "All three of us believe that he's the one who has the right to it. Frank, Albus, and me."  
"Good, good," Toddles patted James on the back, "Good."  
"Come on, children," Moody said, herding them out of the room and after him and Toddles, "It's time to find out what happens to real heroes."  
They followed the two adults out of the office, and down a long dark corridor. Finally, they came to the end, where an elevator was waiting for them.  
The doors opened, and the seven of them walked inside.  
"Now, which floor is it on again?" Toddles asked.  
"Second," Moody said, "Crouch should be waiting for us."  
"Right," Toddles said, and the elevator sped to the second floor. The five of them had no idea where they were going. What was waiting for them?  
The door opened, and they saw a shorter man with a sour look on his face glaring at them. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and looked very sharp. He saw Moody, and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst look someone could give another person.  
"Ah, the recruits and their nanny," the man said, sniggering under his glare.  
Moody's shoulders grew stiff, and he cleared his throat, "Nice to see you again as well, Crouch."  
"The pleasure's mine," he said shortly, and then looked to Toddles, "They came for the name-engraving?"  
"Yes," Toddles said, "That one . . . he's his son."  
He pointed to James, and James felt his stomach lurch.  
"We'll be coming with him," Moody said, and pushed James ahead of them, "Show him where the room is."  
Crouch turned, and sauntered into the office that lay behind him. Aurors were in their cubicles, working away. Some of them nodded to Moody as they passed their "offices." Others scanned the faces of the recruits.  
"Who are they, Alastor?" one pudgy man asked as they crossed his path.  
"Students from Hogwarts," Moody said, "Here for a summer assignment. Looking into journalists for the Daily Prophet."  
"God help them," the man retorted, and him and Moody shared a laugh.  
To the very back of the room they went. On the cubicle walls, Sirius could see papers with faces printed out on them. One of them was of the face that James and Remus had seen in the park, in the middle of the Death Eaters' circle.  
His face was the most one posted.  
"Here we are," Crouch said, taking out his wand, and pointing it at a door's knob. The door was on the far back wall, and almost seemed invisible in the large room. Yet a large plaque stood on top of the door, reading "MEMORIAL OF THE FALLEN."  
The door opened, and the seven of them walked into a lit room with marble walls, floor, and ceiling. There were four torches, set in their holders in each corner. They illuminated the room, dancing on the dark marble.  
James looked closer at the walls, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. It wasn't just any ordinary room.  
The walls were covered from top to bottom with engraved names. Each one spelled out perfectly in capital letters, one after the other in long lines. On the floor, there were more names. He looked up to the ceiling, and read the large words that towered over them.  
  
IN MEMORIUM  
TO THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES  
AND SUFFERED  
DURING THE GREAT WAR  
  
1972- ____  
  
THEY WILL LIVE ON IN FREEDOM'S SPIRIT  
  
"These are the names of people who have died for our cause," Moody said solemnly, removing his bowler hat and placing it over his heart. He lowered his head, "All of them."  
James scanned the closest wall, and noticed a name that he recognized.  
Mister Frederick William Snorks.  
"Look," Lily said, pointing at a name, "Jonathon Richard June," she looked at Moody, "Professor June's son really is dead."  
"You think I lied to you?" Moody snarled, and then turned to James, "Every time that we lose a member of the Order, I come here to this room, and I add their name to the growing list. No, not all of these names were in the Order. But a good deal of them were. I knew all of them. And I watched all of them die horrible deaths. And I put each of their names on this memorial. But I believe that it is your duty to do the honors this time, James."  
He handed Toddles's wand to James, and pointed out a spot on the wall, "Aim the wand, and say their names, James. They died for a cause. They deserve to be remembered."  
James swallowed.  
He could still see his parents. He could see their faces.  
He raised the wand, and the names he pointed at magically scooted out of the way to make room for the upcoming engravings. He took a breath.  
His mother. Her rosy cheeks and her bouncing arms came back to him. They had rocked him as a child, hugged him, fed him, loved him.  
Voldemort had taken that away from him. He had taken his mother away from him.  
"Olivia Winnifred Potter," he said, and the letters came spilling out the end of his wand, and pasted themselves to the wall between "Mitchell Ethan Porter," and "Edna Katherine Pottington."  
The kind face of his uncle came to mind, and he felt himself choke on his own tears, "Charles Landen Potter."  
And then the happy memories of Klipooraks and bedtime stories. The open casket. The funeral that wouldn't end.  
"Wendy Olivia Potter," he said, and the name found its way underneath Uncle Charlie's and Mum's.  
His father. Staring at him in the Headmaster's office. Not wanting for James to see. James telling him that pride wasn't worth fighting for. His disappointed face as his only son marched off, away from the Order.  
And now his father wasn't here to see that he was a member. His father would never see him and Lily. He wouldn't be there at his wedding. He wouldn't see his son or daughter. He wouldn't see any of that.  
Because of Voldemort.  
Because of him.  
"Harold Wenrick Potter," he said, and the letters found their way above his mother's name. They would lay there, engraved in the stone, until the end of the world.  
"Good show," Toddles said, holding his hand out to retrieve his wand. But James didn't give it back. There was one last name to add.  
"Potter?" Moody inquired of him.  
James raised the wand one last time, and whispered through tears, "Sprite Potter."  
And the name rushed out of his wand, and resided in the midst of the other fallen members of the Potter family. The treasures that Voldemort had stolen from James. The people that he would never see again.  
There was a silence as the others stared at the newly glistening names on the wall. Sirius's eyes were set on Sprite. So was Crouch's. He looked disgusted.  
"A house-elf on my memorial," he huffed, "What is the world coming to."  
  
The elevator door shut behind them as they said good-day to Toddles and Crouch. Moody was standing next to James, and placed his bowler hat back onto his head. The other four were quietly standing behind them. James was trying not to cry in front of them.  
He had done too much of that.  
"That is what happens to real heroes," Moody said, "Real heroes don't live to tell their battle stories. They die alone and cold, never to talk again. Never to brag. Never to gloat over their own skill and wits. They end up on that wall, just one name in the midst of thousands. That's what a real hero is, children."  
No one argued with him.  
"So if you were getting any thoughts about coming out of this smelling like a rose and getting accilades from the world, you were wrong," he said darkly, not looking at any of them. His eye had stopped swiveling, "Even if you do live through this war, your name will be forgotten. You may find yourself in a blurb in the paper, or mentioned during a poker night, but no one will thank you for your sacrifices. No one will throw a parade in your name, and no one will ever think another thought about you. All you will get out of being a real hero is the satisfaction that you did what was right. Are you all clear on that fact?"  
They nodded quietly, and then the elevator began to speed back to the entrance of the Ministry.  
"And that was a very noble thing you did back there, Potter," Moody said, his eye looking to him, "She deserved to be on that wall as well, with her family."  
James nodded again, and not another word was exchanged as the elevator doors opened. 


	63. Chapter 62: A Midnight Visitor

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Blooper alerts: Here are the latest bloopers. I can't believe I did this! After I write the entire story out, I'll go back and correct these. Thank you, readers, for pointing them out. Moody drank from James's tea cup. He never drinks from anything but his hip flask. Also, the Quidditch game couldn't have happened the way it did, because Harry caught it in a matter of minutes, and he broke a record. Thank you for telling me about these.)  
  
(About the Order's secrecy: I imagine the first Order as sort of a current events myth. Like Robin Hood and his Merry Men, or any other rag tag team of heroes in older literature. Everyone knew that they existed, but there was no proof, and not everyone knew who was involved with them. I believe this because it says that they didn't have anything on the Death Eaters, and that not only them, but their families were getting killed. This means that the members were not only killed in battle, but they were also just plain out murdered by Voldemort and his group. This means that the Death Eaters must have known who they were, if it meant that the Daily Prophet got a hold of a name, or someone infiltrated the Ministry or Order, or got a hold of a list. But they knew who the members were. And therefore, while it was supposed to be a secret agency, it didn't exactly turn out that way. I don't know. This is how I envision it. As I said, views of what happened for these three years will differ from reader to reader, and I'm just writing it the way that I see it happening.)  
  
That night, they were told to go to sleep at midnight. Everyone in the Order had left during their trip to the Ministry of Magic, and now the house was empty except for Lily, James, Remus, Sirius, Peter, and, of course, Mad-Eye Moody.  
This didn't exactly intrigue Sirius.  
This meant that the sleep-depraved recruits were to keep awake until midnight. Moody had set them in the living room, around the fireplace, and warned them that if he caught them asleep before 12:00, he'd hex them into an insomnia spell and force them awake. This was enough motivation to keep the zombie-like Sirius to keep conscience.  
He sat on the couch, mumbling to himself, and rubbing his bloodshot eyes. Six hours of sleep for three days. It wasn't healthy. Six hours of sleep.  
God, all he wanted was his bed. All he wanted was for the torture to end.  
A twenty some hour day hadn't done any of them any good. They were all nodding off as they watched the clock that would admit them their release. Moody sat in the chair, wide awake, and reading the paper.  
"We run a tight schedule here," he said, "You must be always vigilant. Break your sleeping patterns so that at any given time, you are alert and aware of your surroundings."  
Sirius grumbled something about abuse, and then started to stare into the fire. His vision was blurry. He needed his pillow. He needed to sleep.  
And finally, the clock's bell tolled, and the five of them dragged themselves from the living room, and upstairs. Sirius felt as if he was floating as he crossed to his door, and opened it.  
"Good night," James yawned, opening his own door. Lily sleepily kissed James sweet dreams, and then trudged over to her own door.  
"Yeah," Sirius mumbled feverishly as he walked the length of his room (it seemed longer than before), "Yeah, night."  
He felt himself drop into his broken bed, and his head touch his pillow.  
And then he slept.  
  
"Don't make a move."  
Sirius's eyes shot open, and he saw a knife pointed at his throat. He froze. It was the knife that Remus had given him for Christmas.  
The attacker's face was in the shadows, and he couldn't tell who it was. It was still night. The attacker made a slashing movement with his weapon, missing Sirius by inches.  
"You're dead," the attacker snarled, and the pocketed the knife.  
And then the attacker's face was hit by the streetlight outside.  
"You crazy git!" Sirius barked, throwing Moody off of his bed, "Waking me up in the middle of the night! Holding a knife to my throat!"  
Moody's eye swiveled to look at him, "Good morning, Mr. Black."  
"What?" Sirius said, desbelievingly, "Do you know the difference between night and day? Night is when it's dark! That's when we sleep! Day is when the big giant orange orb in the sky is up. That's when we wake up!"  
  
"Dead men don't sleep," Moody snarled, "You left a weapon out for an enemy to grab and use on all of us. You were not aware of your surroundings. You let a stranger break and enter your bedroom without anything to stop him. Without any preparation. You do not deserve to live, yet alone sleep."  
"Get out of my room," Sirius ordered.  
"You have one minute to be downstairs," Moody growled back, "And I want my toast with jam today."  
Moody then stalked out of the room to the doorway.  
"At least give me my knife back!" Sirius barked at his back.  
Moody's eye turned to look at him, "You have no use for it. You're laying in your bed, your throat slit. You're dead, Mr. Black. Your funeral is in two days. Now, get downstairs and start cooking."  
And with that, Moody slammed the door. Some plaster fell off of the ceiling, and hit the floor with a crash. Sirius looked at the clock on the wall, and groaned.  
Four oh two in the morning.  
"I have got to get a lock for that door," Sirius muttered as he stumbled out of bed.  
  
Lily was the only one that could be found awake. The other three had been left alone to sleep, and Moody was no where in sight. Probably still in his bed, sleeping peacefully. And Sirius didn't have the nerve to go barging into his room. Who knew what hexxes could be found on that door.  
Lily had put her hair up in a bun, and was sipping a cup of tea as Sirius stumbled into the kitchen. She was sitting at the ktichen counter, and she smiled when she saw him open the cupboard to get the loaf of bread.  
"Breakfast duty again, huh?" she said, and Sirius sighed.  
"Yeah," he said, "What a surprise. You know," he said, taking out two slices of bread, "I get called down to his office, just like everyone else. I get the same offer, and yet I'm the one getting most of the heat from that old bat."  
"I think he's trying to teach you discipline," Lily said quietly, taking another sip of her tea.  
"Discipline? Me?" Sirius chortled, "I don't need any discipline lessons. I've got enough discipline to keep myself alive."  
"Exactly," Lily said.  
Sirius sighed again, and ran his fingers through his hair, "I don't know how much more I can take of this," he eyed Lily, "What are you doing here?"  
"I left my door open," she said, "He said that I, over anyone, should have my door shut and bolted, with a painful hex put on the knob. He told me to keep you company."  
"Well, I guess little Remus was smart enough to keep his door shut then," Sirius said, unscrewing the jam lid.  
"Guess again."  
Remus walked into the kitchen, looking worse off than the other two. He took a seat next to Lily, and lay his head down on the counter. His hair was one knot as he shut his eyes, "I slept with my back to the entrance of the room."  
Sirius laughed, "And I thought it was just me."  
"Oh, it is," Remus yawned, half asleep, "But he wants you to have company in your misery."  
Sirius joined them at the counter, and tussled Remus's hair, "If I can't sleep, you can't sleep," he grumbled.  
Remus lifted his head, and rubbed his eyes.  
"Can I ask you a question, Sirius?" Lily asked, rubbing her thumb against the outside of the cup.  
"Go ahead," Sirius said, "Don't expect a good answer, though. I'm mentally still in bed."  
"Who was Sprite?"  
Sirius looked at her, and then to Remus. Remus looked away.  
"You take this one, Padfoot," he said quietly, his mouth forming a firm line.  
Sirius sighed yet again, and rested his head on his hand, "She was the Potter's house elf. She was killed with James's parents."  
  
"So why did they put her on the wall?" Lily asked, "I mean, aren't house elves just like slaves? I mean, they really aren't part of the family, are they?"  
"Usually," Sirius said, remembering Kreacher and the collection of elf heads residing on his old house's wall, "But Sprite had been freed. She kept on to help them. More of a nanny than a servant, really. Never really understood it, but then again, I never really understood anything about that family."  
"Why?" Lily asked, looking at him. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the darkness.  
"They were just . . . not your typical family," Sirius said, "Different from mine, anyway."  
"They were close," Remus elaborated for Lily's understanding, "They were James's life."  
Lily nodded, and then fidgetted with her tea bag, "I can't believe that he lost all of them."  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "He's been through more than any of us," he thought for a moment. Should he say it? Did he dare? Was it worth bringing up?  
"Why do you think they spared him?" he said bravely.  
Remus and Lily looked straight at him, "What?" Remus asked.  
"Well, they killed all of the Potters, right?" Sirius explained, "Why didn't they kill James?"  
"I don't know," Lily said, "Do you think they're still out to find him?"  
Remus shrugged, "Who knows. He's alive today, and that's all that matters, right?"  
Sirius looked at his friend like he had just sprouted fur, and Remus sighed, "Sirius, don't."  
"I think that you should be a little bit more optimistic, that's all," he retorted.  
"How can you be optimistic at a time like this?" Remus said, the tone in his voice not changing, "You saw those names as well as I did. There was an entire room full of them. What makes you think that we all are going to make it through this?"  
Sirius turned away from him.  
"You still have this perfect picture in your mind that we're going to grow old together and have a regular life," he said. He wasn't patronizing Sirius. He wasn't arguing with him. He was just stating a fact, "Some of us may not make it, Padfoot. And we have to enjoy the time that we do have before anything happens."  
"We'll all make it," Sirius said sternly, and then reached for the cupboard for a box of porridge mix, "We will."  
"I hope so," Lily whispered quietly, staring meekly at her tea cup again. Remus put an arm around her.  
"But let's not think about that right now," he said as Lily took his hand and squeezed it, "Right now, let's just survive this training."  
Lily nodded, and Remus removed his arm. Sirius had ripped open a package of the mix, and was now pointing his wand at it. In a matter of seconds, there was a bowl of steaming porridge. He set it on the table, and began to eat.  
The three of them didn't say another word to each other.  
  
The living room had been cleared, except for five chairs and a blackboard pulled up opposite of it. As the sun began to stream into the windows, the five recruits and the worn Auror made their way into the room.  
"Take your seats," Moody growled as he walked to the chalkboard. James and Peter had had a good night's rest, and they looked lively and awake again. They had gotten to sleep until seven o' clock, since Peter had locked his door, and James had slept facing the door and heard Moody enter.  
They had been rewarded with three extra hours of sleep. Something Sirius would give any one of his limbs for right now.  
The three dazed early birds stared at the chairs, and Sirius felt himself laughing.  
"We're graduated," he said, "This is rubbish. I'm leaving. Wake me up with Professor Moody's done with his lesson."  
He turned around, and headed for the spiral staircase. Moody gave a groan, and turned to face the leaving pupil.  
"I didn't want to do this, Mr. Black," he said, and he took out one of his wands, and pointed it at him, "Imperio."  
The four watched in horror as Sirius grew stiff at the doorway, as a jolt seemed to hit his body. His eyes went wide, and glazed over. His mouth dropped, and his brow raised. As if he was watching something else . . .  
"Stop it," James whispered, his heart racing.  
Sirius's eyes grew wider.  
"Stop it!" James shouted, turning to look at Moody. Moody didn't pay any attention to him, though. He was concentrating hard on the back of Sirius.  
Sirius slowly turned around, his eyes losing the glaze, and his stance returning back to normal.  
"Don't you do that again, you old crackpot!" Sirius snarled at Moody. Moody smiled.  
James stared at him, and then back at Moody.  
"Stop it, whatever you're doing to him, stop it," James said, raising his wand at the Auror.  
"I'm fine, James," Sirius said, rubbing the back. It was exactly his tone of voice. It was exactly the way that he would have said it, "Prongs, what's wrong with you?"  
Moody was still concentrating on Sirius, holding his wand directly at him.  
"Listen to your friend, Mr. Potter," Moody said, darting his large eye to James.  
"Yeah, listen to me. God, look at you. Calm down. He's not going to kill us," Sirius said, coming closer. It was his walk. It was his expressions. It was Sirius.  
James relaxed a bit as Sirius walked to him . . .  
And punched him in the face.  
James fell to the ground, as Sirius pinned him to the ground, holding his wand out to point at his face.  
"Don't trust anyone," Sirius said, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't him. It wasn't his tone, "You never trust anyone, and always suspect everyone. You were easily fooled, because I used the disguise of your best friend to elude you. And yet, here you are, with Sirius Black, loyal brother, ontop of you, ready to dispose of you. Vigilance, Mr. Potter. Vigilance."  
And then Moody lowered his wand, and Sirius blinked. He stared at James in horror, and jumped to his feet staring at his wand. His eyes were wider than before, and he shot a glare to Moody.  
"You ever do that again . . ." he warned.  
"One of the Unforgivable Curses," Moody said, ushering for his students to take their seats, "Imperius Curse. Under it, you have no free will. You are the slave . . . no . . . the puppet of the person who holds you under the spell. It takes a very strong mind to block itself from this spell. There are many people, as we speak, that Voldemort has under this exact curse, and uses them like toys to kill innocent lives. Not all Death Eaters are one by their own wish. There have been at least three Aurors that were not strong enough to block the spell. And now they're servants to that madman. You must prepare yourselves for such an attack. None of you . . . including you, Mr. Black . . . are ready for the battlefield yet. You do not know everything there is to know about the world, contrary to what you may believe," he pointed at James, "You. Potter. Come here."  
James stood, and walked to him in front of the chalkboard. Moody paced in front of him, addressing the other students.  
"Now," he said, "I believe that James has the strongest mind for reasons that none of you would possibly understand. Therefore, he will be our . . . let's say . . . guinea pig? On the count of three, I will put the same spell I did on Mr. Black on you, Potter. And I want you to fight it. I want you to find the strength inside of yourself, and get me out of your mind. Whatever it takes, I want you to struggle. Are you understanding me?"  
James nodded, determined.  
"Imperio," Moody said, whipping his wand to face him.  
And then a sensation came over James. A dazed feeling. The room was spinning. Everything was . . . good with the world. What father and mother dead in their room? What memorial? What Order?  
Speak.  
Why?  
Speak. Say "I am a git."  
Okay, sure.  
"I am a git," James shouted, and then he felt the world come back into focus. He gasped for air as reality hit him like cold water, and he turned to Moody.  
"You said you were going to count to three!" he accused him.  
Moody shrugged, "Do you think that a Death Eater is going to count to three? Give you ample warning? I don't think so, Potter. Now let's try this again . . . Imperio!"  
And the wave of happiness hit him again.  
Speak.  
Why?  
Speak. Say "I love Lily Evans."  
Why, though?  
Say it.  
But why? What would be the point?  
Say it.  
I don't think so.  
Say it.  
No, I really don't want to.  
Say it.  
She already knows.  
Say it.  
NO!  
And James felt the trance slip from his mind. He blinked, and looked to a beaming Moody. He was grinning widely, nodding.  
"Yes, Potter," he said, "There we go. Good show, James. Good show."  
  
That night, Sirius stirred in his bed, not wanting to sleep. He kept having visions of Moody sneaking into his room, with some sort of weapon, telling him to cook toast and scrub the floors.  
He watched the closed door, eyes wide open. Tonight, the night that Moody had taken mercy on him, he couldn't sleep. He was going to die from insomnia, he swore. This would be the end of him. Not a Death Eater, not Voldemort . . . Mad-Eye and his ridiculous sleeping patterns.  
Moody hadn't put a lock on Sirius's door. Even if the hole in the wall had been filled that morning, he still had no privacy whatsoever. He had the feeling that his neighbor watched him with that magical eye through the wall, taking notes on everything that he did. Why was that old git so loathing towards him? What did he ever do to deserve this?  
There was a knock on the door from downstairs, and Sirius sat up. Someone else other than Moody! They had come to rescue them from his evil clutches! Humanity had returned!  
He crossed to the door, and then opened it. No one was awake on their level. He crawled silently down the corridor, edging along the walls. He wasn't going to let that crazy Auror catch him. He wasn't going to get breakfast duty again.  
Light was shining in on the floor below, as the door opened. The gruff voice of Moody welcomed their new visitor.  
"Ah, Frank," Moody said, taking his coat, "What a surprise. What brings you here?"  
"Coming in to check on the progress of our recruits," Frank said.  
"Well, come in. Make yourself comfortable," he said, leading him to the living room, "It's your house as well."  
Sirius edged down the spiral staircase, his bare feet touching the cold stairs. He hid behind the banister, as he saw the silhouettes of the two Aurors appear on the wall in front of him. They had started a fire, and were now seated opposite each other in the chairs.  
"How are they doing?" Frank asked, crossing his legs.  
"Fine, very fine," Moody said, "Very arrogant, yes. And a friendship binds the five of them that is one of the strongest that I have ever seen. They won't let me help them much. Think they know everything there is to know. Especially that Black character."  
"They're young," Frank said, "Do you think that they'll do?"  
"Well, I'm not sure about all of them," Moody took a swig from his hip flask, and wiped his mouth, "That Potter boy is definitely ready. I would trust my life with him this very moment. And Miss Evans is exceptionally strong with Charms and dueling. Very nice addition to the Order, I assure you."  
"I'd keep an eye on those two," Frank said, "You know how teenagers can be when they're in love."  
Moody snorted, "Don't we all."  
"And what about Lupin?"  
Moody's shadow shrugged, "Quiet. Reserved. Has his poker face on at all times. Can't really read him. But I believe that he's trustworthy. Just have to be careful about his little problem."  
"Yeah," Frank said, "We don't want a repeat of June, do we?"  
"No, we don't," Moody said, and sighed, "And Peter Pettigrew. He's definitely loyal. But hardly a wizard. He's almost cannon fodder, it seems."  
  
"Now don't say that," Frank said, "You know that Albus would never . . . "  
  
"I know," Moody waved a hand to quiet him, "I know. I'm just saying that I still don't understand why they picked him. He does have loyalty, yes. But courage is not one of his virtues, sad to say."  
"And what about Sirius Black?" Frank asked, drawing forward. Sirius glared. He knew what Moody would say. He knew that Moody would go on and on about how lazy and un-vigilant he was.  
Moody didn't disappoint him. There was a pause, as the Auror took another drink from his hip flask, and gave a sigh.  
"I'll say one thing about that boy," he said, his voice growing darker, "If I could, I'd drag him off to Azkaban right now."  
"Now, come on, Alastor," Frank said, giving a laugh, "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"  
"No," Moody said, "It isn't. He is deceitful. He is arrogant, self- centered, and above all, trigger-happy. Three very dangerous things when it comes to battle. You heard him laughing as well as I did. When he was trying to kill us during the test the other night? He has no respect for life, let alone his elders. He won't listen to a word I say."  
  
"Do you think that maybe you've been a little too hard on him from the beginning?" Frank asked, "Minerva told me what you said about him when you read his name on the list. You've had it in for him since the beginning."  
"And not without good reason," Moody snarled, "You've heard about Klien's students, I'm guessing?"  
"Yes," Frank said, "I have. But we know all of them that he got to. There were quite a few of them."  
"Do you remember their names?" Moody asked.  
"Well," Frank looked to the ceiling, "There was Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, that boy from Gryffindor . . . what was his name?"  
"Darryl Avery," Moody offered.  
"Right, Avery," Frank said, "Then Snape and Nott. I believe that's it, isn't it?"  
"Pretty much," Moody said, "But there was another student. According to Filch, Mrs. Norris saw another boy walking out of Klien's office late at night on June the seventh, 1972. He keeps records of those things, the obsessive coot," he took another drink, "Well, when we found out what Klien was doing last year, we started to pull the files from his drawers . . . Albus and I went, I believe you were unavailable . . . and found that this boy had not been visiting with Klien when the other six had been called down one by one, the day before school ended of that year. That boy was never identified."  
"And you think that it was Black?" Frank asked.  
"No," Moody said, "I know that it was Black."  
There was a silence. Sirius stared at the silhouettes. How dare they accuse him of something that he hadn't done! How dare they point fingers at him! He didn't know where he had been on June 7, 1972, and he didn't care. All he knew is that he hadn't been anywhere near Klien's office, let alone conversing with him!  
Frank coughed.  
"And what do you want us to do?" Frank asked, "Pull him out? Give him a Memory Charm? Kill him? We have no proof. And from what I've heard from Albus and Minerva, that boy has gone through hell and back to prove himself. He's been trying his entire life to escape his last name."  
"As I told Minerva," Moody said, "I never trusted anyone from that family. And I never will."  
Sirius glared, and then began to edge his way back up the stairs, and into the corridor. That . . . old . . . washed up . . .  
It hadn't been him! How dare they blame him! How dare they . . .  
He was so angry that he couldn't think. He couldn't sleep.  
He slammed the door, not caring if Moody heard him or not, and fell on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, not moving the entire night. He knew that if he looked away from that ceiling, he would lose control. He would probably start down the stairs to tell Moody off. And he couldn't do that.  
He'd show him.  
He'd show all of them. 


	64. Chapter 63: Shadows in the Forest

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: This is definitely a rated PG-13 chappie. Not just for violence, but the rest is very VERY mild.)  
  
Frank had been right about Lily and James. To put it nicely, it had been a complete mistake to place the two of them in neighboring rooms. Moody, on his way up one night, heard giggling from inside, and practically threw the door off of its hinges in a flash of bright blue light. There was a scream inside, and then a high pitched voice said, "Mr. Moody, I . . ."  
"MISS EVANS!" Moody roared, rushing out of sight, "GET BACK INTO YOUR ROOM! I DO NOT WANT TO EVER SEE YOU IN HERE AGAIN!"  
And then he emerged from the doorway, Lily in arms, and kicked her door down. He threw her in, and slammed the door in her face. She was still laughing as he raised his wand to bolt her door.  
"We didn't do anything . . ."  
He tapped the knob, and it grew bright red. Then he stalked back to James's door, and glared at him.  
"Potter, I am warning you," he said, "If I catch you again, you will be sleeping in the basement, and Miss Evans will be in the attic, and the next full moon, I will place Mr. Lupin between your two floors. Do I make myself clear?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Good," Moody slammed the door, and it fell off of the wall, swinging dangerously from the highest bolt.  
Then he kicked open the door to Sirius's room, and came face to face with a red eyed, stubble faced Sirius, standing right in the entrance. He had his wand pointed right at Moody's neck, and his hands were clenched.  
Moody smiled, and patted him on the shoulder, "Good, Mr. Black. Good. You may go to sleep now."  
He shut the door, and walked down the hall. He opened his door, and without walking into the room, shut it again. He peered back at Sirius's door, and crept quietly to the outside of it again.  
Then, he kicked the door open again.  
Sirius was still standing there, his bloodshot eyes narrowed. Moody gave out a laugh, and then nodded again.  
"Right you are, Mr. Black," he said, shutting the door, "Vigilance. Remember that."  
  
The next week was one of the longest that the five of them had ever encountered. Peter took twice as long to understand everything than everyone else. Moody had lost his patience with him many a time, and had gone to sending sparks his way every time that he made an error.  
"Mr. Pettigrew, do you derive happiness out of irritating me?" Moody sighed, removing his eye, and massaging his socket.  
Peter stood, shaking in front of Remus, holding his wand out. He had just painted Remus's robes a bright fuschia instead of locking his arms into a lowered position. Remus was trying to undo the spell, laughing as Peter turned red.  
"S-sorry, sir," he said.  
"Don't apologize," Moody snapped, "Do it again. Do it until Lupin's arms fall off. And concentrate on your damn wand. Mr. Potter did this spell two hours ago. Cocentrate!"  
  
There were few visitors to Moody's house. Occasionally, Frank would show, and eat lunch with them. The five took pleasure out of any company that they received. They had not been allowed to leave the house since their trip to the Ministry, and any interaction with a sane human being was cause for celebration.  
Dumbledore never showed, though, and Professor McGonagall was only seen once. She had stopped by to relay a message to Moody, and then to speak with Remus about something or other.  
It was well into the second half of the tiring first month of training, that an urgent message came for them. It was around ten at night, Moody was in the middle of discussing Disillusionment Charms as Marlene McKinnon appparated in the entrance hall.  
"Mad-Eye!" she shouted, and Moody turned his eye to look through the walls.  
"Yes?" he asked as she skidded around the corner, her expression one of a madwoman torn between determination and pure esctasy. Her eyes glittered, and her hair seemed to be on fire.  
"It's time!" she said, "Bring the recruits. They could use some field work."  
"Field work?" James perked up, and looked at her.  
"There's a whole bunch of them," Marlene said, sounding somewhat excited, "They took a family of Muggles from Ottery St. Catchpole. Took them into the woods to torture them. Dumbledore wants me, you, Frank, and those five down there now."  
"Ottery St. Catchpole?" Moody said, tapping the chalkboard, "All right. And McKinnon, wipe that smirk off your face. You'd think it's Christmas the way you're carrying on about. This is a very serious situation."  
Marlene's excited face disappeared, and then she disapparated, leaving Moody to usher his "students" to the chalkboard.  
"Now listen," Moody said, "You're going into this for the first time. Do not expect glory. Do not take McKinnon's attitude on this. We are dealing with lives at stake here. We are to enter the woods, find the ones responsible for the capture of the Muggles, and return the Muggles . . . dead or alive . . . back to their village. All right? No heroic business or pointless wand waving," he sighed, "You are not ready for this. Now come on, touch the chalkboard."  
And within seconds, the six of them were being hurled through the air, as if someone had grabbed them from their navel and was tugging them forward. Lights rushed past them, and soon them and the chalkboard found themselves in a remote place.  
Everything had happened so fast. James blinked, and looked around at his surroundings. They were in a field, with lanterns hung around them by the fence that housed in the wild grass. Leaning on the fence, were some Ministry officials, muttering to themselves quietly. Moody got to his feet, and the others followed him to the group huddled in the dark night. James looked up, and saw the beautiful stars above their heads.  
The flames of a Muggle house danced across it, and his focus turned to the barn that was now engulfed, roof caving in. Officials were also crowding around that as well, shouting "NOX!" at the top of their voices. A scream could be heard from an above loft.  
"Hello, Alastor."  
"Hello, Frank. McKinnon," Moody acknowledged them as he swept past them, ducking under the fence, and into the group of officials.  
"Giving you problems on security, again, hey?" Moody said.  
"Yeah," Frank said, "Something crawled up Crouch's ass, and he won't let us get close enough to help."  
"Ah, the nanny's here," Crouch said, coming out of the crowd, crossing his arms, "And I see he's brought the schoolchildren with him. How quaint."  
"We are on strict orders to enter those woods," Frank said, "Now if I have to call Albus down here to make you . . ."  
A jet of green light flew out of the woods behind them, and the spectators screamed as the skull and snake formed above the trees. James felt a tinge of fear.  
Moody grabbed Crouch by his shirt, and shook him, "Now you're going to let us in there if you know what's good for you! There are innocent Muggles in there, and I'm not going to let them get killed."  
Crouch tugged himself away, and glared, "Then go. It's your hide."  
Moody, keeping his swiveling eye on Crouch, jumped the fence with McKinnon and Frank behind him, and shouted, "Come on, you five."  
The seven of them ran through the field, and then felt themselves engulfed in the trees' shadows. It was so dark. Sirius took out his wand, and whispered, "Lumos." But Moody shouted, "BLOW THAT THING OUT NOW, MR. BLACK!"  
"Nox."  
Moody glared, "Do you want to get us all killed? Give away our position?"  
Sirius didn't say a word.  
Moody sighed again, took a swig from his hip flask, and said, "All right. We're splitting up. McKinnon, you take Lupin and Pettigrew. Frank, take Mrs. Evans and Potter," Sirius went to follow his two friends, but Moody put his arm out to block him.  
"Not so fast, Mr. Black," he snarled, "You're coming with me."  
And then they split up. James saw Sirius and Moody rush to the north, as he, Lily, and Frank made their way to the south. Remus and Peter followed Marlene to the west.  
"Now," Frank said, "They say that there's only a handful of Death Eaters out here. Not sure exactly who, but we're going to find out. Remember, stay calm. Don't think. Attack, and ask questions later. Do not kill anyone that isn't a Death Eater. Do not harm the Muggles."  
James and Lily nodded.  
They cut through the brush, the almost full moon cascading its light onto them. It would only be a few days until Remus would change.  
They were out of the classroom, and into the real world. They were going to be equal members of the Order tonight. They were going to prove themselves. Lily pulled out her wand, and pointed it to the darkness. The stars and moon were the only sort of light they had. The leaves crunched under their feet as they went farther and farther into the trees and underbrush.  
"Shh," Frank stopped abruptly, and held his hand to silence the two of them.  
They listened, and heard voices ahead. They were indistinct, and somewhat muffled. But they sounded dark, low, and cackling.  
Frank crept forward, and motioned for them to get down on the ground. They did as they were told, and then looked back ahead of them. A bouncing light was trekking closer to them.  
And three voices.  
"Where did you hide the bodies?" the first one asked the second one.  
"Somewhere where they'll find them," a high raspy voice came, and James realized who it was at that moment. But what would he be doing in the middle of a forest, just killing Muggles?  
"It's Volde -"  
Frank clasped his hand over his mouth, and nodded, "I know," he whispered, almost silent.  
"How many of Dumbledore's men are in the woods?"  
"Seven. We counted them."  
"Good," Voldemort said, and then turned to look at his two men, "Good. Now our work here is done. I shall see you soon."  
The two nodded, and then a loud popping sound was heard. They had all three disapparated.  
"Wait here," Frank said, "Don't move."  
He walked out of the brush, and then onto the trail that the Voldemort and his followers had been standing on. He looked in the direction in which they had come, and then turned back to James and Lily.  
"If I don't come back soon," he said, "Send up red sparks for Moody to see. Do not move from that spot. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yeah," James said, and Lily nodded.  
Frank disappeared into the darkness of the forest's shadows, and the two of them were utterly alone.  
"Do you think they killed the Muggles?" Lily whispered.  
James nodded. He scanned the forest for any sign of difference. Something didn't feel right. It wasn't over yet.  
And then he saw it.  
"Look," James pointed to a shadow that had just appeared on the horizon line, "It's him. They didn't leave."  
Lily followed his gaze, and then saw it.  
"It's You-Know-Who," she said.  
"It's Voldemort," James corrected, and then he felt a rage in his heart. There he was, so close to him. The man who had killed off everything that he loved.  
It was time to get his revenge.  
"James!" Lily shouted as James stood, and started to walk towards the shadow in the distance. He wasn't thinking anymore. All he cared about was killing that man. All he wanted to do was feel his hands clench that monster's throat, and feel him die. Feel him . .  
"James, what are you doing?" Lily followed him out of the brush, "Frank said for us to stay here . . ."  
"I don't care," James said, taking out his wand.  
"You're not thinking rationally," Lily said, taking his shoulder, "If that really is . . . Voldemort . . . he'll kill us."  
"Let him," James said, and then lit his wand. Lily gasped.  
"Nox," she said, and then whipped around to face him, "No, you can't. No . . . you . . ."  
"Good evening, Prongs," a voice came from behind them. James snapped his head to look at the stranger, and saw to his surprise, a very familiar face.  
Long greasy locks of black hair, over a hooked nose. Beady eyes glared at him from beneath his hood. He held his white mask in his hands.  
"Snape," James said, in surprise, and he held his wand at him, "Snape, what are you doing here?"  
"Dumbledore's not the only one with recruits," another voice came from behind them.  
Lily turned around, and came face to face with a boy their age, donned in the same uniform that Snape was wearing. His long, sleek, white hair flowed onto his black cloak, glistening in the starlight.  
"Lucius," Lily whispered, "What . . ."  
And then the woods went silent. The animals in the trees stopped singing and stirring in their sleep. The wind stopped rustling.  
And their hearts stopped beating.  
The dark figure that had been on the horizon now stood in front of them, behind Lucius, and mouth smiling from behind the dark hood at Severus. The two young Death Eaters lowered their wands, and bowed. He paid no more attention to them as he directed his dark eyes to James.  
"Your father was a fool," he said in his raspy voice, "He was a coward until the very end, I assure you."  
James didn't move. The man was towering over him. Lily was staring at Voldemort in shock, not able to move. She gripped James's shoulder.  
"Good work," Voldemort said to the other two, and they bowed, and left.  
"What do you want," Lily said, trying to hide the fear from her voice. It was him. It was the man that the world feared.  
Voldemort looked at her, and then raised his wand.  
"Crucio," he hissed.  
The spell hit Lily, and she fell onto the ground, writhing and screaming. James pointed his wand at the demon, eyes blazing.  
"Let her go!" he ordered.  
There was a cold laugh that came from underneath the shadows of the hood. It sounded like more of a hiss. A heartless, merciless hiss.  
"I was right," he said, "You do have courage. Pity Dumbledore already has chosen you."  
Lily gave out a shriek, and James gripped his wand.  
"LET HER GO!" he screamed.  
"You want to die," Voldemort hissed, "I can see it in your eyes. Everyone you ever loved is dead. And now, you want to die."  
"JAMES!" Lily screamed.  
"And you will die, my friend," Voldemort said. James narrowed his eyes. He had called him his friend. He was toying with his emotions.  
"What do you want," James said, "You want more than to kill a few Muggles. I know that. What did you want."  
Voldemort gave out another laugh, and then looked straight into James's eyes. James wasn't afraid again. Let him see anything that he wanted to see. Let him read his mind. Then he could know how much hate he had towards him. Maybe then this monster would be frightened.  
But the Dark Lord did not tear through his memories. He just laughed, and then pointed his wand from Lily to James.  
He then said, in a tone colder than stone, "I want your courage." 


	65. Chapter 64: The First Defeat

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(French Translations (Blooper alert): Because of my stupidity, I have not been translating "I Will Not Die" correctly. I apologize, and thank "Twilight's Dawn" for correcting me. It will be correct in upcoming chapters. Also, there was a typo while writing out Toujours Pur. And the poem, "Les Soldats Dormant," has been rechecked by my old French teacher, and it seems to be fine. Thanks, Twilight, for pointing out the translations to me. Much appreciated!)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: This is definitely a rated PG-13 chappie. Do not continue if you don't like violence. Thank you.)  
  
Lily gave out another scream, and James gripped his wand tighter.  
  
"I saw you that Christmas night," Voldemort continued on, as if he could not hear Lily. His entire world was focused on this skinny boy in front of him, holding his wand out to him, "I saw how you turned and protected that boy. I saw your eyes. I read your mind. And that is why I spared you. That is why I let you live."  
  
"You killed them," James spat, "You killed my family. You killed June. You killed . . ."  
  
"I killed them all," Voldemort said, his lip curling into a smile. His pale skin was illuminated by the moonlight. He seemed to be proud of that fact, "But I didn't kill you."  
  
James didn't answer.  
  
"You've wondered why," Voldemort hissed, "You lay awake at night, trying to second guess me. Trying to find the one reason why I would spare you."  
  
"Shut up," James snarled.  
  
Lily had stopped shaking, and now she lay on the ground, panting and gasping for air. Voldemort raised his wand to Lily again, and the convulsions continued. She let out another howl, and James stepped closer to Voldemort.  
  
"And you want to know why," the man continued on, "And I shall tell you."  
  
"Let her go," James ordered, "She has nothing to do with this. Let her go."  
  
"She is a recruit," Voldemort snarled, "And I shall kill her. And you will lose another person close to you."  
  
Lily screamed.  
  
"Unless," he continued, "You leave with me."  
  
James narrowed his eyes. What was he talking about?  
  
Voldemort gave out another cold laugh, and then flicked his wand at Lily almost effortlessly. She rose high in the air, struggling with her invisible binds, and was slammed against a tree. Her head ricocheted against the trunk, and she fell to the ground, motionless. James gave out a cry, and turned from Voldemort.  
  
He ran to her side, but as soon as he had gotten to his knees, he felt an excruciating pain from his back explode and run through his veins. It made him stand again, and face the Dark Lord, who was sneering again.  
  
"I will kill her," Voldemort said, "You love her. I know. I can read your mind like a book."  
  
The seering pain came again, and James gave out a wail. He clawed at his head, as the memory of the Astronomy Tower came to him. He could see the fireflies dancing in front of their eyes.  
  
"STOP!" he screamed, and Voldemort laughed.  
  
The fireflies were then replaced by a door knob. One that had a carving above it. Blood traitor.  
  
The Dark Mark . . .  
  
The clouds . . .  
  
"STOP IT!" James cried, "STOP IT! STOP IT!"  
  
And then he saw the woods again. Voldemort stood over him now, pointing his wand down at him, smiling still. The treetops were above him, and the stars above.  
  
Oh God, it was still so peaceful all the way up there. It was still a free world . . .  
  
"Join me," he hissed, "Join me, devote your life to a truthful cause, and I will spare both her and Lupin. Otherwise, you shall suffer the consequences. And so will they."  
  
Another searing pain ran through his head. An image that he had never seen before. An image that he never wanted to see . . .  
  
Lily's pale, dead face . . . laying on the ground . . . her green eyes no longer sparkling . . . her mouth open in that vacant expression . . .  
  
Remus, clawed to death . . . laying next to her . . .  
  
"NO!" James screamed, and Voldemort let the spell subside.  
  
"And you know that I am quite capable of it," he snarled, "Join me."  
  
"NEVER!" he said, struggling to his feet.  
  
"Do you defy me." Voldemort hissed. It was not a question. More of a threat. The pain in his back came again, and James fell to the ground in a heap. He was still, moaning feverishly.  
  
"DO YOU DEFY ME!" he demanded.  
  
A whirring sound came from behind them, and then the sky went alight with red. Voldemort looked over James's limp body, and narrowed his eyes.  
  
Lily was standing now, her hair blowing in the wind, and her jaw set. Her eyes were flaming, and her hands were clenched. She was still shaking from the spells as she raised her wand, sending red sparks sky high.  
  
"I do," she snarled, with a bravery that no one would have thought she was capable of.  
  
"You little brat . . ." Voldemort said, but then stopped. He turned his head to look into the woods, and then growled, "They're coming."  
  
And sure enough, out of the shadows of the trees came Frank Longbottom, his wand out and pointing in every direction. From their right, Moody and Sirius were sprinting through the brush towards them. And then, in front of them, came Marlene, Peter, and Remus.  
  
They circled Lily and James, but it was too late. Voldemort had already vanished. Frank looked from Lily, who was still convulsing slightly, to the limp figure of James on the ground.  
  
"My God," he said, and rushed over to him. He turned him over on his back, and hit his cheeck, "Come on, James. Wake up. Talk to us. What happened?"  
  
"It was Voldemort," Lily said bravely, "He . . ."  
  
"Voldemort?" Moody cut in, "Voldemort was here? But what was he doing killing off a few Muggles?"  
  
"I don't know," Frank said, as James gave out a cough, and then blinked.  
  
"Lily . . ." he cried deliriously, and Lily started to walk towards him, but Moody stopped her. He grabbed her arm, and she spun around to look at him.  
  
"Tell us what happened, Miss Evans," he said.  
  
Lily looked to him, her left eye twitching, "Let go of me."  
  
Moody gave her a discerning look, but let his hand drop from her arm. She rushed forward, and collapsed next to Frank, taking James's hand in hers.  
  
"Is he . . . is he gone?" he murmered.  
  
"Yes," Lily answered, "Yes, he's gone."  
  
It was only a few minutes later that the dark figures of seven Aurors emerged from the forest, all in a straight line, their faces very set. Crouch turned to look at them as they walked up the grass covered field, and back to the fence. The barn had burned down moments before, and now officials were racing to the rubble to try to find the screaming voice that had been in the higher loft.  
  
James was supported between Sirius and Lily, and he stumbled along with the rest of the recruits. His head still ached with pain, and the images of Lily and Remus laying there . . . dead . . . still was playing over and over again in his mind.  
  
He could hardly see the officials rushing to him to help him over the fence, and into a Ministry car. Moody and the five recruits stalked after him, but Crouch barred him from entering the car.  
  
"He is going to St. Mungo's tonight," Crouch said, "Unless you are family, you will not be aloud to enter."  
  
"We're his family," Sirius said, stepping forward, "Now let us in with him."  
  
Crouch sneered at Sirius, and then in a wry tone, said as he slammed the door to the car, "Not today, Mr. Black."  
  
Lily watched as James was wrapped in a blanket inside the car, and another official climbed inside next to him in the back seat. He was handed a cup of something to drink, but he didn't look like he could hold the steaming hot liquid by himself. His aid helped him take a drink, and then the cup vanished.  
  
James leaned his head on the official's shoulder, and his eyes squinted with pain. Lily felt herself running forward, and coming face to face with Crouch.  
  
"I'm his fiance," Lily spoke up.  
  
Sirius blinked from behind her, and Moody gave her a look.  
  
Crouch snorted, "A little young, don't you think? Nice try. Get back."  
  
"It's true," Sirius said, his eyes glancing back to Lily, and then to James in the car, "She is his fiance."  
  
Crouch looked at him, and then back to Moody. Moody shrugged. Sighing, he stepped out of the way, and wagged a finger at the rest of them.  
  
"No one else, though," he said, "Only family."  
  
Lily opened the door to the black Ministry car, and took her place in the front seat. She turned to the back seat, and took James's hand.  
  
"I'm here," she said, "Don't worry. I'm here."  
  
James nodded, between painful attacks, and then squeezed her hand.  
  
"You're alive," he whispered.  
  
"We're all alive," she said, "That's what matters. Now stay with me. All right? They're taking us to St. Mungo's."  
  
James nodded again, and then gave a wince and a small cry. Another official then climbed into the driver's seat, and turned the keys.  
  
Sirius watched them as they sped away. He was in a state of shock. They weren't going to get married . . . They . . . James would have told him, wouldn't he?  
  
It must have just been a bluff. James wouldn't get married to Lily. He . . .  
  
"Don't worry," Remus said, coming up from behind him as the group turned around to return to the abandoned chalkboard in the field, "I know Lily. She was probably just trying to get past that Crouch character."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said, watching the car turn a corner into the village a few miles away, "Yeah, of course. I'm not worried."  
  
"Grab a hold of the chalkboard," Moody said, as the five recruits circled around the fallen Portkey. Frank had gone to talking to Marlene and another official by the fence, "We're returning home."  
  
It was odd to call Moody's house home. Sirius wasn't very amused by the thought. Since he related the word "Moody's house" with "torture cell," he would have rather gone with James. But it wasn't too easy for him to say that he related to the Potters. Of course, he was the evil Black spawn that would be the end of all before him.  
  
That made him laugh out loud, and Remus looked at him.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," Sirius said.  
  
"Mr. Black likes to laugh at the least humorous times," Moody explained to Remus, as if Remus had never met Sirius, and then tapped the chalkboard, "Hold on." 


	66. Chapter 65: Morning at St Mungo's

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Blooper Alert: And still, I spell the Killing Curse wrong. When will I learn? Sigh. Okay, I'll get it right this time . getting out the handy book .)  
  
(Reply to Twilight's Dawn: Thank you for reading my story, and taking the time to point out my mistakes and grammatical errors. It's truly much appreciated. One thing that you did bring up was that Sirius wouldn't know much about the Bible, therefore wouldn't be able to make his comment about Dumbledore being very "biblical." Well, Sirius spent most of his time away from school at the Potter's house, and all of his time at school with James. James's family was Catholic. When he went over there for the first Christmas, he was introduced to a nativity scene, and saying "Grace" at the table. So I just guessed that he knew enough about the Bible to make a snide comment. And yes, I know, Sirius's ongoing battle with Lily is becoming tiring. But it's finally over, so thank God that we don't have to listen to his angst anymore. Lol. Oh, and I brought up the mirror during their first date . . . fyi . . . now I'm feeling like a critical person, lol. Thank you so much for taking the time to write out well written and thought out reviews!)  
  
(And a note to readers worried about Moody hating Sirius: Keep reading . . . it's going to be okay . . .)  
  
Lily had sat by James's bedside the entire night. She had not slept. She had not taken a break. She had loyally pulled up a chair to the head of his hospital bed, and held his hand as the spells wore off slowly.  
James was lost in his own world. The visions of Remus and Lily continued to replay themselves before his eyes. The death of his mother and father and Sprite. The funeral of Wendy. All of it . . .  
It just played over and over again in an unending nightmare. His head was still hammering, and he could hardly see the true scene before him, because of the limp bodies of his beloved friends dancing in front of his eyes.  
He felt Lily's hand. He felt it more than anything else. It was the only thing that was real to him.  
And then, as the sun peered through the window into the room of St. Mungo's, her sparkling eyes broke his dream. They were staring into his soul, and into his mind. He felt himself resurface from the spells that Voldemort had put on him, and come face to face with the most beautiful creature on earth.  
"Lily," he murmered, and Lily stroked his hair.  
"Sh," she said, "You had a hard night."  
"You're okay," he said, the world coming into focus. He hoisted himself into a sitting position, "You . . . you made it out. You're not dead."  
"No," Lily said, "He couldn't kill me if he tried."  
  
They shared a small, nervous laugh, and then James gripped her hand, "God, I was sure that you were gone . . . I was sure . . ."  
  
"Don't think like that," she interrupted him, "Just don't."  
James nodded solemnly, and then looked around at his room. It was white, and an older man was speaking quietly to his bedridden wife across the way from them. Healers and assistants could be found throughout the room, and then out in the hall.  
"St. Mungo's," he snorted, "They took me to St. Mungo's."  
Lily smiled sadly, "You don't remember anything about last night, do you?"  
James searched his memory for any recollection, and then finally nodded, "I do. I remember . . . I remember he asked me . . . he asked me to join him."  
"And you said no," Lily said, "You said no to him."  
"How did we get out?" James asked, and Lily shrugged, "I alerted the others with some sparks, and he went running. Seemed not to be ready to face three Aurors at the moment. Not exactly sure why."  
"Dumbledore must have been on his way," James coughed, and then a Healer interrupted their conversation to check his vitals, and then declare him well enough to go home that afternoon.  
"Miss Evans," the Healer addressed Lily, "We need you to sign a few papers before he leaves, seeing that you're his only family left. If it wouldn't bother you . . ."  
"No," Lily said, "That's fine. Thanks."  
  
The Healer left, and James gave Lily a look, "Family?"  
Lily shrugged, "They wouldn't let anyone come with you if they weren't . . . if they weren't your family. And so I lied."  
  
"What did you tell them?"  
Lily bit her lip, and then let go of his hand. Looking around, to see if anyone was in earshot, she said quietly, "I told them that I was your fiance."  
James's eyes grew big, and he looked sick, "What?"  
"Well, they wouldn't let me come any other way," Lily said, "And Sirius tried to go, but they stopped him. And I had to be with you when you snapped out of it . . ."  
"Oh, God," James said, hitting his forehead, "Sirius probably thinks that we were going to get eloped or something!"  
"What? You're worried about Sirius now?" Lily said, looking back at him.  
"He's so sensitive when it comes to you and me," James explained, turning pale, "He thinks that I didn't tell him! He thinks . . ."  
  
"He's a big boy, James," Lily cut in, sounding sort of disgusted, "I think he'll be able to handle it."  
James sighed, "No, he won't. God, Lily, why did you say that?"  
"I thought that you'd like to have someone with you when you woke up," she defended herself.  
James groaned, and rolled over in his bed.  
"Well, I'm glad to see that the idea of us getting married makes you sick to your stomach," Lily said, crossing her legs.  
James moaned, and his head hurt with pain again. But not from Voldemort's spell. From Lily's voice sounding in his ears.  
"Look," Lily said, "Let's just . . . let's just get you home. And be thankful that we're still alive. We could have died last night."  
  
James nodded, but he didn't turn around. Marriage. Marriage.  
He was seventeen.  
Marriage.  
"You can't come in here!"  
The two of them looked to the door where a Healer had screamed from the hallway. The white-clothed woman was trying to stop a taller and long haired man from entering the ward.  
"Watch me," the man growled, and then pushed her out of the way.  
James laughed as Sirius came strolling into the room, his hair dangling in his face, and face very pale and tired.  
It was now Lily's turn to groan as he made his way to the bed, two Healers running after him. He was still wearing his robes from last night, his large biker boots protruding from underneath them, and a chain locked on his belt buckle.  
"I'm sorry," another quieter voice came from the door, as the newcomer tried to help the Healer up from the floor, "He's got a bit of a temper."  
Remus Lupin came rushing in after Sirius, as if he was a father running after his escaped crazed child. Sirius didn't pay any attention to Remus as he stopped at the edge of James's bed, and took a look at him.  
"Are you all right?" he asked quickly.  
"I'm fine," James said, giving him a look, "Why? And . . . what . . ."  
"We escaped," Remus said, finally catching up to Sirius at the bed, "Padfoot wanted to make sure that you were all right. They told us what had happened back at Headquarters . . . and . . ."  
"He wanted you to join?" Sirius interrupted him.  
"And he thought that he needed to talk to you," Remus continued on, "And I can't let Sirius out in society by himself. He'll end up killing someone."  
"Sirs, I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the room now . . ." The female Healer said, running from behind them, holding her wand out to them.  
"It's fine," James said, "They're not bothering me."  
  
"We have strict orders from Mr. Crouch that you are only supposed to have family members to visit," she said.  
"Well, Mr. Crouch can go throw himself off a bridge," Sirius barked, "I'm trying to talk to my friend here, so if you don't mind . . ."  
  
"Don't make me stun you, sir," the Healer raised her wand.  
"Don't you point that thing at me!" he shouted, "I'm trying to have a civil conversation! Now if you don't mind you can turn your . . ."  
"Excuse me, miss," Remus said, cutting Sirius off again, "We are very good friends with James, and we just want to talk with him for one moment. Could you just please lower the wand and let us have two minutes with him alone? That's all we're asking for."  
The Healer gave them one last look, and then lowered her wand. She sighed, putting her hair back into place, and mumbled, "I could lose my job for this."  
"Now," Sirius said, turning back to James, "What happened. Tell me exactly what happened."  
James sighed, mussed his hair, and relayed the entire story to his friends, with help from Lily. Sirius's face grew paler with every single word, and by the time that James lay back in his bed, done with his story, he looked like a white sheet.  
"That's it," he said, like he had just decided something, "You're going into hiding. All three of you. I'll be your Secret Keepers. I'll . . ."  
"Padfoot, no one's going into hiding," Remus said, "We're perfectly fine where we are. As long as we're in the Headquarters, we'll be safe."  
And the little color left in Sirius's face faded, "I am not spending the rest of my life in that madhouse," he croaked.  
"Well, he's not after you, is he?" Remus said dryly.  
"I'm not going to hide either," Lily said, speaking up, "As soon as the training's over, I'm going to find a house. And I'm going to live there, like a normal human being."  
"Oh, yeah, because we all know that you're a normal human being," Sirius huffed, "Especially with this whole Order member thing, and . . . oh, wait . . . you're a witch. Forgot that small little detail."  
"You know what I mean," Lily snapped, "I'm not going to let him scare me into hiding."  
James didn't say a word.  
And no one seemed to care, because the three of his friends just kept on ranting and raving at each other.  
"And what's this all about you two getting married?" Sirius shouted. James's train of thought was broken, and he looked into the dangerous face of his friend.  
"We're not," James said, shooting a look to Lily.  
"Told you," Remus muttered from behind his hand.  
Sirius's eyes softened, and then his cheeks became colored again, "Ah . . . well, that's . . . I knew that."  
Lily glared back at James, and then turned away from the three boys. Remus could swear that he saw her left eye twitching with annoyance.  
"Well, that's great," Remus said, "Now that we have everything figured out now, maybe we can get back into our rooms before Moody finds out that we're gone."  
"Oh, he's probably figured that out by now," James said.  
"We locked out doors," Sirius said, "I put a spell on mine. We thought it may hold him off for a while. We escaped through the windows. Crawled into his backyard, and down an evergreen," he massaged his shoulder, "Not the most comfortable thing ever. And then we got a car to take us here."  
"More like stole a car," Remus corrected him.  
"Remus, I'm impressed," James said, giving him a thumbs up.  
"I think we've been a bad influence on him, Prongs," Sirius laughed, and Lily shot a glare at him. He grew quiet.  
"He's being released," Lily said, "You two could have waited a few more hours before breaking out."  
"Ah, but where would the adventure be in that?" Sirius laughed his barking laugh, and Lily had to give a small smile.  
The four of them were alive. That's all that mattered, as Lily had pointed out. They were young. They were innocent, carefree, and ignorant. How could any of them had known what was in store for them? How could any of them know that the incident of last night was just the beginning of a long spiral of death and destruction?  
How could any of them had known that? 


	67. Chapter 66: Remus and the Wolf

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under 13: Again, here's another transformation. And good to say, the last real detailed one. So please do not continue with this chapter if you don't like violence, etc. You guys know the drill. It's PG- 13.)  
  
The next days passed quickly. Everyone was on ends about Remus's first transformation in the Headquarters. They knew that unless they wanted Moody to find out that they were unregistered Animagi (which wasn't an ideal scenario), they couldn't accompany him anymore.  
Remus seemed quieter. Ever since the night in which Lily had found out about their secret, he had been detached from the rest of the group. Sirius remembered Moody's comment about his poker face, and now he had to agree with the old git. Remus had been the calmest of all of them during the forest episode, and now he hardly talked to anyone.  
James knew that it was the impending moon. One night, he had been in charge of telling the other four to get up and get downstairs for dinner, and he had found Remus on his bed, holding that music box that June had given him.  
The music had been playing, and Remus had his eyes shut, soaking in the notes.  
"Moony, you okay?" James had asked.  
Remus shot up, and quickly hid the music box under his pillow. His face was flushed and he fixed his shirt collar.  
"James . . ."  
"You feeling all right?" he had asked, and Remus had just swallowed hard and nodded.  
"Yeah, I'll be fine."  
But he hadn't looked fine. His face was calm. It was like there was a wall in front of him, shutting James out. James cleared his throat, and uneasily said, "Well, dinner's ready if you're hungry."  
  
Remus nodded again, "I'll be down in a minute."  
Remus had changed so much ever since James had met him. He had become stronger, more resilient against the world.  
Harder.  
Stronger.  
And yet, James knew that the scared little mousy boy that he had met during their tutoring lesson still lived, under the skin of this soldier and in the heart of the man that stood before him.  
It pained him to see Remus acting like this. The calmness in his tone and actions were unnerving to everyone. It seemed that he was going to explode at any moment. But Moody respected it, and Remus quickly became one of his favorite pupils.  
"Very good, Lupin!" he commented as Remus threw Peter across the room during one of their lessons.  
  
As for James himself, he was torn. He remembered Lily's lie to Crouch. Why would she have said such a thing? Even if she had been trying to help him, it had just brought up a lot of questions.  
He felt as if his life was being cut short. Six months ago, when they were sitting around Sirius's table at Christmas, he thought that he was going to have a normal life. He thought that he would marry when he was twenty five, have a child at thirty, retire from Quidditch at fifty, and die at seventy.  
Now it was looking like these life goals would have to be condensed.  
Of course he wasn't going to die . . . it would be silly to think that he was going to die . . .  
But Voldemort had promised him that he would.  
All of this ran through his head nonstop the next few days as he tried to listen to Moody in his training sessions. It was useless, though.  
  
The night of the full moon came, and Remus quietly walked into his room like he was walking the last mile. His eyes were set. His jaw was clenched. And he didn't look at any of his four friends, following him into the room.  
"Now remember," Peter said, "I might be able to fit through the door if you need help."  
Remus nodded.  
"And I'll come in if you need help," Peter said, "Just as long as you don't eat me."  
Remus nodded again.  
James looked at the room. They had taken precautions this time. All sharper objects had been placed out of sight, and the bed and dresser had magically been relocated to a different room. The only thing left was the music box, sitting in the middle of the bare floor, glistening in the sunset's rays. Remus gave out a deep breath, and then looked to the others.  
"He's not going to laugh at me again," he said quietly, and all of them pretended to understand what he was talking about.  
"You ready?" James asked, ushering their friends out. Remus, his back turned to him, nodded as he stared out of his small window to the house next door. The sunset was mirrored in the glass of their window. It was almost lowered all the way. It wouldn't be long until the moon would take its place.  
"Yes," he said, and then James shut the door quietly. He locked it tight, and then joined Lily, Peter, and Sirius on the floor outside of the room. None of them would be sleeping tonight. They were going to be there for him.  
The story of Jonathon June kept running through James's head, and he gulped. Lily took his hand, and tried to smile. They were together again. Normal. No more talk of marriage or future. Just this one moment.  
It was an adventure.  
  
Remus was alone again. No one could help him now.  
It was time.  
He had been planning for this night for a month now. He was going to meet the wolf again. And he was going to conquer it.  
The music box lay in front of him as he sat down next to it, the light from outside hitting his body. He was ready.  
He was ready for that monster.  
It seemed like hours passing in the few minutes that it took for the sun to disappear, the sky to grow purple, and then to black. And then for the moon to shine.  
The reflection of the moon hit their neighbor's window, and then found it's way through Remus's window.  
And then it hit him.  
His body tensed. All of the muscles were changing. All of the instincts were leaving, and being replaced. He had been through this countless of times before. He had been through this every month for the past fourteen years. But he was not afraid. He was ready this time.  
With his transforming hand, he opened the lid to the music box, and the song came seeping out.  
"Les etoiles brillent," he muttered to himself as his arms shook, and his neck twisted, "En le ciel. Les . . . les etoiles . . . brillent . . ."  
He fell to the ground, his abdomen convulsing. He arched his back, in pain as his nails turned to claws, and his nose to a muzzle.  
"Ils brillent . . ." he stammered through his clenched teeth. Fight it! Fight it! The wolf does not control you! The wolf does not . . .  
The wolf was back.  
And he was laughing.  
He was laughing at Remus as Remus transformed into him. As Remus's thoughts went from the music box to blood.  
There was so much blood outside his door. If he could just break the door down .  
"Ils brillent sur les soldats dormant!" Remus cried before his voice changed. The music box continued playing as the man was fully transformed into a wolf.  
And stood on his now four legs.  
The wolf reigned again.  
The wolf reigned always.  
The wolf was laughing.  
Blood.  
Knock the door down.  
Knock that damn door down, Remus.  
Knock it down and get to them.  
Les . . . les etoiles . . . les etoiles . . .  
No stars can help you now, Remus, the wolf laughed, For I am the moon. And I control the stars.  
And then the wolf opened his eyes. The fight was over. The wolf had won.  
He scanned the room for something to eat. Something to bite. Something to kill . ..  
Blood!  
If only he could get outside the door.  
He was the wolf. Of course he could get outside the door.  
He ran to the door, leaped, and rammed into it. A scream came from the other side.  
"I'm going in," Peter's voice came.  
Peter!  
Remus then opened his eyes, and saw the wolf charging for the door again.  
NO! he cried, and threw the wolf down onto the floor.  
They lay there, in a heap, and the wolf glared at him.  
DIE! The wolf screamed, and threw Remus back into darkness.  
The wolf then turned back, and dangerously lunged at the door again.  
NO! Remus screamed again, resurfacing in his mind. The wolf growled, and bit him.  
"AAAOOOO!!!"  
Lily gasped, "We have to do something!"  
"No," James said, "He's got to do it by himself this time."  
Remus heard their voices. He couldn't let the wolf get to them! He couldn't let him kill them!  
Blood.  
BLOOOD!  
I WILL NOT DIE! Remus screamed as he slammed the wolf against the wall again.  
GET OFF OF ME! The wolf screamed back, YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL! I AM IN CONTROL! I AM THE WOLF! YOU ARE THE BOY!  
I WILL NOT DIE! Remus cried out again. The music box was still chiming. He was holding onto the notes. Every single sound it made was a memory . a recollection of that boy's life. Remus Lupin was a real person. Remus Lupin existed. He was a brown haired . taller .  
Remus Lupin is dead, the wolf snarled, and lunged for the door again.  
Remus grabbed the wolf by the throat, and felt an insinuating pain hit him under his chin. He yelped, and the wolf smiled.  
You are weak, he said, and kicked him.  
Remus howled, and skidded across the floor, along with the wolf.  
You are dead to me, the wolf said again, and dug his teeth into his side.  
Remus screamed, and went limp. And the wolf laughed.  
He laughed again.  
He laughed long and hard.  
I will not die, Remus choked from his position on the floor. The wolf didn't hear him.  
The wolf was in control now. Their body stood once again, and made its way across the room. Not to the door this time, but in the opposite direction.  
To the music box.  
No! Remus howled, No! Please!  
The wolf took the box in his jaws, and Remus could feel the metal bend under his teeth. The small treasure become ripped apart as he and the wolf destroyed . . . mutilated it.  
And Remus couldn't stop him.  
The wolf was becoming smarter. He was becoming stronger.  
And Remus couldn't stop him.  
You fool, the wolf snarled, throwing the remnants of the music box aside, You complete fool! You've trained for a month so you could kill me! And now look at you! You're dead!  
And then the wolf ran back towards the door, and thrust his collar bone into the wood. It shook. Another scream from outside.  
Lily.  
Lily was out there.  
He couldn't let the wolf get her .  
But Remus was too weak. He couldn't think anymore.  
And as the full moon drew higher in the sky, and hit his back, the wolf submerged from the waters of his mind, and Remus drowned.  
Remus died.  
And the wolf remained.  
Laughing yet again.  
  
Remus hadn't opened the door for them that morning. He hadn't stirred. He had been totally silent since one o' clock. They were all preparing to see the sight that they had seen in the pantry. Him, sprawled out in the floor, unconscious.  
James pounded his fist on the door, "You in there, Moony?"  
No answer.  
"Oh, geroff," Sirius said, pushing him out of the way, and tapping his wand to the knob, "Alohomora."  
The door swung open, and they all piled inside, one after another. They scanned the room, trying to find Remus's lifeless body.  
They found it. In the corner.  
But it wasn't lifeless.  
He was sitting upright, his arms on his knees, knees to his chest, back to the wall. And he was staring in concentration to the thin air in front of him. His body was scratched, and there was a large gash on his neck. Yet it seemed as if he didn't feel any pain. Well, none physically anyway.  
He didn't acknowledge his friends as they made their way to him. His face was expressionless, but James could tell that he was trying not to cry. His eyes were glazed over, and almost dead. His face was rigid, as if he had just been through a painful ordeal.  
Sirius held out a hand to him to try to help him up, but Remus didn't take it.  
"Moony?" Sirius said, cocking his head like a dog looking at something curiously.  
"Leave me alone," Remus said in a monotone voice.  
Sirius looked back to James, and then shrugged, "He's lost it. Finally, he's lost it."  
  
"Shut up and leave me alone," Remus said, darting his eyes to Sirius.  
Sirius looked like he was about to deck him for telling him to shut up, but he knew better. James led his friend out, and Lily and Peter continued to stare at him.  
"Are you sure you're all right?" Peter asked.  
"Just go," Remus turned away, to look outside the window. It was a beautiful day. Twenty eight more days until the wolf returned.  
The wolf had beaten him again.  
Lily's eye caught a glimpse of something on the floor, sparkling in the sunlight. She walked to it, and picked it up.  
"It's your music box," she said, looking at the disfigured object. Large teeth marks could be seen, bit into the moon engraving. The words on the top of the lid had been clawed off, and they couldn't be read anymore.  
"Did you do this, Remus?" Lily asked, turning to face him again. Remus didn't say anything.  
"You really should get that gash looked at," Peter said, "I heard Moody's great with healing. Come on, we'll go get that patched up . . ."  
"Can you two please just leave," Remus said, almost above a whisper.  
Lily looked to Peter, and motioned for the door. Peter shook his head, and knelt down by his friend.  
"Moony, are you . . ."  
"Go. Away," Remus said, his voice becoming stronger.  
Peter blinked in surprise, and then stood to join Lily on her trek out of the door. Lily placed the music box on the floor, and continued out behind him.  
She shut the door as she entered the hallway.  
  
Remus didn't talk much after that day. Slowly, his weak smiles returned and his wry sense of humor came back, but he was never the same. The little boy had dug himself farther into his heart, and was hardly recognizable now.  
Remus thought. He didn't talk. He knew what he was going to do before he did it. He had everything planned out perfectly before attacking it.  
In other words, he had become the exact opposite of Sirius.  
He never endangered anyone again. Whenever Peter would offer to turn into a rat to accompany him, he would protest. Whenever any one of them wanted to be anywhere near him during his transformations, he would always argue with them to stay as far away as they could.  
No one asked what happened that night, there between him and his curse. No one wanted to know. They had heard the screams and howls from inside the room. That's all they needed to know.  
Remus Lupin had been defeated by the wolf, once again. 


	68. Chapter 67: A Perfect Night

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
"Where will you be going?"  
James looked to Mad-Eye, and mussed his hair, "To the Leaky Cauldron," he said.  
They were sitting in the kitchen, at the table. The other four inhabitants of the house were asleep, up in their rooms. It was just James and Moody that were awake. James fiddled with his cloak hem, as he talked with his teacher, very nervous.  
"Can I tell you something, James?"  
He shrugged, "Go ahead."  
Moody's swiveling eye landed on him, and studied him closely, before continuing on in a very solemn voice, "You're young. Too young. Seventeen . . ."  
"Eighteen," James said, "My birthday was last week."  
Moody nodded, "Well, happy belated birthday."  
  
"Thanks," he said quietly, and then Moody continued.  
"Potter, you're eighteen years old. You have your whole life ahead of you," he said, "Now why in God's name would you want to settle down now?"  
"Because I don't know how long I'm going to be alive," James said, "After what happened in the park, and then the forest . . . I don't know if I am going to have a long life. And I need to do what I have to do before I . . . before I end up dead," he added bluntly, and Moody snorted.  
"You're not going to end up 'dead,'" he said, "Haven't I taught you anything? You think that with two months of my training under your belt that you're going to go off and get yourself blown up? Not likely, Mr. Potter."  
James smiled sadly, and then said, "I just feel like its time."  
  
"Marriage is a very serious thing, Mr. Potter," Moody said, drawing closer, "It's one of the most dangerous practices in all of human history. It can break a man. Kill him, even."  
"I love Lily," James said.  
"You don't know the meaning of the word," he said casually, taking a drink from his hip flask, "You're still a child."  
  
"I'm not a child," James argued.  
"Mr. Potter, have you ever woken up in the morning, rolled out of bed, and looked in the mirror?" Moody asked, "And when you see yourself in that mirror, you say to yourself 'God. When did I get old.'"  
James slowly shook his head; not really understanding what Moody was getting to.  
"Then you're still a child," he said, and took another swig.  
"But I do love her," James said.  
Moody snorted again, "Love is highly overrated, Potter. It causes weakness. A soft spot for the enemy to poke at with a stick."  
"I don't care," James said, "I'm going to ask her."  
Moody sighed, "Well, all I have to say is good luck."  
  
James was given four hours away from Headquarters to change his life. When he came back to Moody's house, he would be a new man. A married man . . .  
Or at least, a soon-to-be married man.  
Peter helped him get ready that night, since he hadn't had the nerve to tell Sirius or Remus about what he was about to do. He remembered Sirius's face at the hospital, glaring at him like he had just committed treason. He didn't care what Lily said, he was still acting like an eleven- year-old, and if Lily said yes, he was going to lose it.  
He was going to down right drive himself crazy.  
Remus had too much on his mind, and would be badgering him about telling Sirius before telling Lily. He didn't want to talk to either of them, and he certainly didn't want their advice on anything. He just wanted a quiet friend to show moral support before he popped the question that would change his life forever.  
He had thought long and hard after meeting Voldemort for the second time. He had almost died that night, and now it seemed as if it was more of a reality for him. He didn't want to leave Lily without telling her . . . without asking her.  
And where would he go? Not the Leaky Cauldron. That wouldn't be too romantic, taking Lily into a bar filled with smoke and drunk hags, and asking her to marry him. No, he had just told Moody that so he wouldn't send one of his minions to tail them. He wanted this night to be his and hers. Only the two of them would be there.  
He was taking her to a very special place.  
"Which one do you think?" James asked, holding up two different robes, "The black or the blue?"  
"I personally like the blue," Peter said, sitting on the bed, "But why not just go in regular clothes? Make it a little more casual?"  
James nodded, "Right, right," he said and then dug back into his pack, "How about this?"  
"Perfect," Peter said, and James threw the shirt on, as Peter crossed the room to reach the cologne, "Hey, James?"  
"Yeah?"  
Peter took the cologne, and handed to him as he tried to button his shirt, "Did You-Know-Who really ask you to join?"  
  
James groaned, "Wormtail, I really don't want to talk about this. I'm nervous already . . ."  
"And you're not going to, are you?" Peter asked.  
James sprayed the cologne on, and handed it back to Peter, "No, I'm not going to join."  
Peter nodded silently, and then said, "I . . . I wonder how long it will take . . ."  
"For what?"  
"Well, for them to know our names."  
"I think they already do," James said, "I think they found that out that night in the forest."  
  
Peter gulped, and his face became white.  
"And . . . and still you . . ." he stopped, and then added, "I mean, you still want to go out by yourself tonight? Me or Padfoot could tail you . . ."  
"No," James snapped, "Sirius doesn't know about this. If Lily says no, he'll never hear about it. This is between you and me, all right? Not Moony, not Padfoot. Okay?"  
Peter's color returned, and he looked very excited, "Yeah. Sure, Prongs. Sure."  
  
"Great," James said, "I know I can trust you to keep this secret," he sat on the bed, and reached for his shoes, "You've never told anyone before."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Peter said, wringing his hands together, "You need help with anything else?"  
"Just wish me luck, mate," James said, tying his shoe, "And hand me the ring from over there."  
  
Peter walked to the chest of drawers, and took a sparkling box from its top. He opened it, and gasped in awe.  
"It's huge!" he exclaimed.  
"Yeah," James said, and then sadly added in a soft tone, "My father and mother left me a fortune. And Uncle Charlie. I wasn't supposed to withdraw anything for a few years . . . saving up for my first house and all . . . but I think that they'd be okay with this. They knew about Lily . . . or, Mum knew . . . and they would have been happy if they had known that we were getting married."  
"So you think she'll say yes?" Peter asked, handing him the ring.  
"I know she will," James said, and looked at his treasure, "She has to. I have the night all planned out. It's going to be perfect."  
  
Lily was waiting downstairs, dressed nicely in her best Muggle clothing. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and her face was sparkling with light. Her dress was very fancy, since James had told her to dress up. She had no idea what was in store for her that night. James had only told her that he wanted to talk to her about something important.  
Which was true.  
James saw a flash of her waiting for him at the Graduation Dance. She had been so beautiful that night. And now, after Lily had saved his life, battled with death itself, she was even more beautiful.  
"Miss Evans," he said, faking a snooty accent. He held out his arm for her to lock with hers as he stepped off of the spiral staircase. She gave a laugh, and hit it.  
"Cute," she said, "Very cute."  
James massaged his arm, and then put it around her shoulders. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way to the fireplace, where Moody was standing. He had the pot of Floo Powder in his hand, and looking at them disapprovingly.  
"Remember, Potter," Moody said, handing them both a handful of Powder, "Four hours. No more, no less."  
"Right," James said, and then Moody left the room.  
"The Leaky Cauldron, right, Potter?"  
"Yeah," he said, stepping into the hearth with Lily, "The Leaky Cauldron."  
And then Moody was gone. James took Lily's hand, and whispered to her, "Say Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
"What?" Lily said, "We're going to Hogwarts?"  
"Shh," James said, and looked at the wall that Moody had disappeared behind, "Yeah, just say it, all right?"  
And then James whispered the name, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Lily then took her turn, and followed him in her own flash of light.  
Peter watched from the spiral stairs, as they disappeared. He would never have anything like that. James didn't know how lucky he was. He had friends that loved him, and a wonderful girl.  
Two things that Peter would never be able to call his own.  
"Mr. Pettigrew," Moody called from the kitchen, "Tell Lupin and Mr. Black to come and prepare dinner."  
"Yes, sir," Peter said, standing up, and walking up the stairs to retrieve the two recruits. 


	69. Chapter 68: Will You

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(About Moody's Eye: Yes, I am aware that he did not have his eye at this time in the canon. This is the one thing that I am taking liberties with, and will not change. I mean, what's Moody without his eye? For dramatics, I kept it.)  
  
One year ago, if you had told James Potter that he would be proposing to Lily Evans, he would have thought you to be a little off kilter. He also would have proceeded to hex you.  
But one year had changed their lives.  
They were young, as we all are at one time in our lives. They had the world closing in on them, and they were suffocating. In the world of Voldemort and death, nothing was too soon. They had learned to live when they could, and not take any time for granted.  
One more week until they would be set free with the rest of the Order members, and then the real adventure would begin.  
James couldn't die without showing Lily that indeed, he wanted to marry her, and that he truly did want to spend the rest of his life with her.  
They had gone to Hogwarts, and found themselves in the room filled with fireplaces and Portkeys. Lily had taken his hand as they crawled out of the hearth, and he brandished his Invisibility Cloak.  
"Come on," he said, "Let's get going. We've got four hours before Moody sends the Ministry on us."  
They ducked under the cloak, and quickly made their way out of the room. There was Madam Darsing, holding the keys to the door. Her hair had grown gray, and her skin had sagged. Her muscles from her Quidditch playing days had slowly beefed, and now she looked very past her prime. There had been a rumor going around school when they left saying that she would soon be retiring. Another excellent Quidditch player by the name of Rolanda Hooch would be taking her spot in a year's time.  
Lily covered her mouth to muffle her breathing, but James flipped the Cloak off of his head, and smiled.  
"Thanks for letting us in, Madam Darsing," he said.  
"Ah, nah nahd teh thahnk meh," she said, "Ah knah thah yeh wood geh tahgahthar. Ah knah it."  
She gave out a sob, and took a particularly large hankerchief from her pocket. Lily gave her a look, and then turned to James.  
"What did she say?" she asked.  
James shrugged, and then said to Darsing, "Thanks again."  
The two of them continued down the corridors that they hadn't seen for months. But James still had the entire school mapped out by memory. He had been one of the writers of the Marauder's Map, hadn't he?  
He led Lily up a staircase, and down the long corridor. Gryffindor Tower would now be behind them, to the left. That meant that he had one more staircase to climb up.  
The school was abandoned, except for the few teachers that continued to stay on for the holidays. No students running free. No Mrs. Norris and Filch scavenging the halls, no anything. They no longer belonged to this place, and they no longer had to worry about intereference. It was only James and Lily.  
Nothing else in the world matterd.  
"The Astronomy Tower isn't this way," Lily said, keeping close.  
"I know," James said, looking for the staircase.  
"Well, isn't that where we're going?" she asked, as he caught sight of what he was looking for, and turned to the left.  
"No," James said, "Not tonight."  
Up the staircase they went, the torches lighting their way. Lily had never seen this place before. She stared around in fascination as James led her down the darkened corridor.  
"Where are we going then?" she asked. There was a dead end ahead of them. Where were they heading? Lily looked to James, but he had stopped in his tracks.  
"Just wait a minute," he said, putting out a hand to stop her. His hand was shaking.  
Why was he nervous?  
"Now, don't move," he said, "Wait here with the Cloak."  
James stepped out of his cover, and walked to the dead end. Lily watched in fascination as he shut his eyes, and took a breath. He then turned around, and walked back to her.  
"What are you . . ."  
He didn't answer her. He just turned around again, and went back to the dead end. Then once again, he walked back to her.  
James opened his eyes, and smiled.  
"All right," he said, "It's ready."  
"What's ready . . ."  
And then she saw it. A large door where the wall had stood. She stared at it in complete shock. But James had seemed to expect it, because he took her hand, and walked over to it, beaming.  
"There's a room that Peter found when we were younger," he explained, as he reached for the door knob, "And we found out that this room has magical powers. It becomes whatever you need."  
Lily blinked, and then watched as James opened the door wide, to reveal a beautiful sight that only could have come from a dream.  
The room was blue, draped with dark drapes and curtains. A large window stood on the opposite end of the room, taking up the entire wall and showing the beautiful moon and stars outside. A fireplace, crackling with the warmth of a hot summer's night, stood on the left wall, and illuminated the blue room with its flames. Fireflies danced around in the air, brightening the small round table that was set for two. Dinner plates sat in front of the chairs, and hovering candles were placed in the middle of the sparkling tablecloth. Violins sounded in the background, from a source that she could not see.  
And on the wall opposite of the fireplace, stood a small fountain that spurted water like a small waterfall, magical lights throwing the reflection of the ripples onto the ceiling.  
Lily gasped as James shut the door, and led her to her seat. She was awestruck as she sat, and took her embroidered napkin from her table, and placed it on her lap.  
"This is . . . amazing . . . Oh, James, it's just like it was out of a storybook," she breathed, "How did you manage all of this?"  
"Magic," he said, as he looked down at his food. Just what he wanted, "You like it?"  
"I love it," she said, "Oh, God, James . . ."  
"We only have four hours," he said, "Better get started eating."  
Lily smiled, at the thought of Moody barging into this room, and swatting at the fireflies with his wand, after hexxing the fountain.  
"What's this all about, James?" she asked, picking up her fork.  
"Huh?" James said, his head shooting up to look at her. He looked very nervous now.  
"Well, I know that you wouldn't just do all of this for a regular date," she paused, "What happened?"  
"Nothing happened," James said truthfully, and wiped his mouth with his napkin, "I . . . I just thought that maybe we could spend some time together . . ."  
"James?"  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can you just tell me?" she said, reaching out for his hand. He slowly nodded, and put down his own fork. He cleared his throat, and took her hand in his.  
They were so perfect. Soft pale skin, with nails that glistened in the fountain light. The image of her laying there, dead and cold, came back to him . . .  
"James?"  
James blinked, and threw the memory out of his mind. He wasn't going to think about such things. It was just her and him tonight. The only two that mattered . . .  
"Lily," he said, "Ever since I saw you, I loved you. I didn't know how. I just knew that we were meant to be together. It was like it was written out, you know? Like it was meant to happen. Like . . . like no matter what else happened, you and I had to be together. And nothing could change that, because . . . because it was out of a fairy tale. Because when love is real . . . and when love is true . . . there are no rules, and there are no regulations. There's just . . . there's just us, Lily."  
Lily nodded, biting her lip. Her emerald eyes were sparkling in the firelight. He felt his throat go dry. This was it. This was the moment that he had been waiting for since age eleven. The little girl with the Muggle bracelets had grown into a fighter. She was so strong. She was stronger than him.  
God, he didn't deserve her.  
"And that night," he said, looking her in those beautiful green eyes, "That night that I saw you laying there . . . I thought it was over. I thought that everything that I had ever said, or ever did . . . it wasn't enough. I think the happiest moment of my life was when I woke up in the hospital, and saw your bright face above me."  
Lily gave a sad smile.  
"And I would give anything to have that bright face above me for the rest of my life," he said, leaning closer, "I love you. And I promise with all of my heart that I will protect you, and I will honor you . . . and I will love you . . . for as long as I live. Even longer."  
He felt himself kneel out of his chair, and his knee touch the floor. He took the sparkling box from his pocket, and held it in his hands. It was warm, and filled with life. It was the moment.  
Lily stared at it, tears welling up in her eyes, as he opened the box to reveal the ring inside.  
"And I know that we're young," he said, as she gasped, "And I know that the world's ending. But when love is true, there are no rules."  
He took her hand, and squeezed it.  
"Lily Evans," he whispered, "Will you marry me?"  
  
"Yes," Lily sobbed, and threw herself into his arms. They kissed, and then embraced each other. He rocked her in his lap, the both of them knelt on the floor. Lily's makeup was strewn over her face as she cried happily.  
The violin music continued from the walls, and the flames danced in the fireplace. The world turned and continued on, but for that one moment, Lily and James didn't continue with it. They were alone in this one moment.  
  
And nothing would ever be able to stop that moment for them.  
It was just Lily and James. Forever alive in this one second of pure bliss. 


	70. Chapter 69: The Best Man

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Thanks from the author: Thank you to Jewls White for her assistance on the plot outline of this chapter. It is much appreciated, and I thank you for helping me! Kudos to you!)  
  
Remus, Peter, and Sirius were all sitting on James's bed, like little children waiting to be told a secret. Peter was wringing his hands together, excitedly. He hadn't told anyone, and he was very proud of himself.  
Remus and Sirius didn't know anything about the present situation, except that James and Lily had been out all night on some sort of date, and that James had come back in a frenzy of makeup on his face and his eyes large and glistening.  
"I need to talk to you guys," he said, almost dancing up the spiral staircase, "Meet me in my room, all right?"  
It was nine o' clock when the two of them had returned. It was now nine thirty.  
"I wonder what happened," Remus said out loud, giving a look to Sirius.  
Sirius didn't answer. He was as confused as his friend, and he didn't like this game that James was playing with him. He was his best friend! Wasn't he supposed to inform him of everything before everyone else?  
But from the looks of it, he had told Peter instead.  
The door opened, and the couple entered, changed back into their robes, and holding hands. James gave Sirius a nervous look, and then took a seat in his desk chair across from his three friends. Lily stood, still clasping onto his hand.  
"All right," he sighed, and mussed his hair, "Well, Lily and I have something to tell you."  
"Then skip the dramatics, and just tell us," Sirius snapped.  
James nodded, and then, turning his attention to Remus, said, "We're getting married."  
The room was silent for a moment as they all soaked in these words. Peter was gleeful, and Remus felt a small smile cascade onto his face. It was the largest smile that he had given anyone in a while.  
"Congratulations," he said enthusiastically, and Lily grinned.  
But James was still looking at Sirius in anticipation. He was waiting for his eyes to go hollow again, and him to go storming out of the room. But to his surprise, Sirius was laughing.  
Laughing?  
  
"Well, good job, Prongs," he said, and Remus gave him sort of a surprised look.  
"When's the wedding going to be?" Sirius asked.  
"In January," Lily said, "We almost have a full six months to prepare. And we could use all the help we can get. James is going to my parents' house tomorrow to ask for permission."  
"I always knew it," Sirius said, slugging James on the shoulder, "I knew that you two would end up together. Just out of a fairy tale, hey?"  
James gave a laugh, and then nodded, "Yeah, just out of a fairy tale."  
Remus looked out of the corner of his eye at Sirius. When was he going to explode? When was he going to stop laughing and get himself together.  
But Sirius just kept grinning and talking excitedly to the couple, and Remus continued smiling politely.  
They would make a wonderful pair. What, with all that James had lost, this would put a little bit of happiness in his life. In both of their lives.  
"Where are you going to have the wedding?" Remus asked, as Sirius was shouting, "Bachelor party, mate! We have to have a bachelor party!"  
  
The group of them had trekked downstairs to the kitchen to break out the butterbeers in celebration. Moody even joined them, even if he did seem a little reluctant to see James and Lily carrying on in the way that they did. They were too young.  
Sirius had been laughing the entire night, going through one bottle after another, making snide comments to James. It was the old Sirius that everyone had missed. Ever since he had been forced into this house, and smothered by Moody, he had been detatched. But now he was happy for James and Lily.  
Something that no one would have ever expected.  
But James still was worried. Even after watching Sirius kiss Lily, sing a rowdy song with Remus and Peter, and shake his hand and wish him the best of luck, James couldn't get over his eyes.  
They weren't hollow.  
They weren't angry.  
They were lost.  
After Remus had sat down with Lily, and had started discussing wedding plans with her, James felt himself drifting off. He didn't really want to think about if they were going to have a unity candle, or in what religion it would be. Or if it would be at a church, or Hogwarts, or at Moody's house.  
He would leave that up to Lily. It would be her special day.  
"We were thinking about making it big," Lily said, "James has enough money, and my parents could chip in a bit. We need to get all of the bridesmaids and maid of honor all set up. And then we're going to pick out a wedding dress . . ."  
"I'll be glad to help out in any way I can," Remus said, "If you need any money at all . . ."  
"No," Lily said, "I think we'll be fine with that. But I would appreciate it if you could put your say in on things. I really don't know that much about weddings."  
"Well, neither do I," Remus admitted, "Sad to say, I've never had one."  
There was a laughter that filled the room. It had been a long time since they had laughed. It felt good.  
"Now listen," Moody said, "The Order will be wanting to come."  
"Well, they'll be invited," Lily said, "Right James?"  
"Yeah," James interjected.  
"And the teachers from Hogwarts," she said, "And Davey Gudgeon, and Elise Warren. I want her to be my maid of honor. Hopefully my sister can be a bridesmaid."  
"So you're going to talk to the Muggles tomorrow, hey, James?" Peter said, taking a drink of his butterbeer.  
James nodded.  
"How do you think your father and mum will take the news?" Remus asked.  
Lily laughed, "Oh they'll be very happy for me. I've told them all about James. They're eager to meet him."  
James wasn't listening to a word they were saying. He found himself looking through the dining room, past the staircase, and to where a lone figure was sitting on the couch in the living room, staring into the fire.  
James sighed, mussed his hair, and walked through the entrance hall to meet his friend where he sat, butterbeer in hand.  
"Hey, mate," he said, sitting down next to him. Sirius's face was sunken in, but he still managed a smile as James patted him on the back, "You all right with this?"  
"Yeah," he said in a casual tone, "Of course I am. I'm happy for you . . ."  
"I know what it means when you laugh," James said, and looked at him, "It means that you're nervous. It means that you're trying to shut us out."  
"That's . . ."  
"Why do you do that?" James said, "Why do you think that you have to laugh?"  
Sirius looked tired and worn, and he shrugged, "Why do you think that you can't cry?"  
James let out a breath, and then looked into the fire, "You know, I know what you're feeling right now."  
"No," Sirius said, "Don't start on me now. This is your night . . ."  
"And you're my friend," James interrupted, "Now look, that's never going to change. Okay? You were always there for me. You've put up with me for more years than anyone else. And that's saying something," he looked at his friend, "You're my brother, Padfoot. Okay? You're my brother."  
"It doesn't seem like that lately," Sirius sighed, "Ever since this girlfriend thing came into the picture, it's like . . ."  
"Like what?"  
"Like I'm losing you," he said, shifting uncomfortably, "We've drifted apart, Prongs. Admit it."  
James thought back over the past year. Ditching Sirius for his first date. Hitting him in the hallway. Sitting with Lily during lunch. The hospital.  
"Well, you've been a little berk yourself," James laughed. Sirius shrugged again.  
It had been a while since Padfoot and Prongs had taken some time out to just hang out with each other. They had been on ends with each other most of the time that Lily had been in the picture. No wonder that Sirius felt deserted . . .  
But Sirius had acted very immature. He had pranked them on most of their dates, had accused them of things that they hadn't done, and most of all, showed his dislike for Lily in the upmost loathing, even if James knew that Sirius secretly didn't hate her.  
But somehow that hadn't seperated them that night that Mr. and Mrs. Potter died. Sirius had still loyally come to collect him. He had let him cry on his shoulder. He had given him his bed and a ear to talk to. He had spent the entire night with him, making sure that he was all right.  
That's what friends were for. No matter what, they were there for the other one in a time of need.  
"Hey," he said, "The marauders still live on, all right? Forever. And no girl's gonna change that. Even if she is my wife, all right? There was you and me before there was me and her."  
  
Sirius let a smile escape his face, and he looked young again.  
"Yeah."  
"And I really am grateful for you taking me back to your flat that night," he said, "You know, after my parents . . . after that whole thing happened. You were there for me. And if there's any time that I can be there for you, I will."  
Sirius nodded, and then said quietly, "That's what friends are for, hey?'  
James returned the nod, "Exactly what I was thinking."  
Then the two of them sat in silence for a moment.  
"Lily and I were talking," James finally said, "On our way back here. And I wanted to ask you a question, but not in front of Remus and Peter . . ."  
"Yeah?" Sirius asked, perking up.  
"We'd like you to be my best man," he said.  
Sirius's face lifted at once, and he gave out a genuine laugh, "Yeah, of course I would."  
  
"Great," James said, and then patted him on the back again as he got to get up. But Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him into a bear hug. They embraced like brothers, and all of their differences were once again put aside.  
Lily and Remus, who were now leaning up against the door, were watching with grins on their faces.  
"Hey, Padfoot," James said, as they let go, and stood to walk back into the dining room, "Welcome back." 


	71. Chapter 70: The House of Evans

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The next morning, Moody was very reluctant to let the two of them go. He had already given them four hours the previous night, and they had missed out on one of his lessons. To go eat brunch with the Evans family would take all morning, and cross into the afternoon.  
But Moody was the least of their problems.  
James had been up all night, rehearsing the speech that he would give to Mr. Evans. He had never met him, and didn't know if he should be expecting a nice, warm man, or Mr. Black. (Not that he had ever met Mr. Black, but he had a good idea from Sirius's stories what his personality was like.)  
Lily had told him not to worry about her father, that it would be her mother that they would need to pursuade.  
"She's very overprotective of me," she said, "She almost didn't let me leave for King's Cross in June. I told her that I had found a flat, and it was all perfectly safe, and she still wouldn't let me go."  
James had the mental image of his own house as they stepped outside of Moody's house, dressed in their most formal Muggle clothing, and walked down the sidewalk, holding hands. Lily was wearing her large ring on her finger, and it glistened in the sunlight.  
A Ministry car had been ordered for them, thanks to Moody, and James took the driver's seat as Lily crawled in next to him.  
"All right," she said, "It's a ways off. In Little Whinging, Surrey. I'll tell you the directions once we get into town."  
"Sounds fair," James said, clearing his throat, and starting the car. They drove off, and they knew that all of their friends had their faces pressed against the window, taking bets on if James would return or not.  
"So how should we do this?" he asked, as they pulled onto the main street.  
"Well, I told them that we were coming over to tell them something important," Lily explained, "Didn't exactly tell them what, though. But I did say that you were coming with me. So they may be suspicious already."  
"Yeah, probably," James said, mussing his hair, "So . . . we eat first? Then you take your sister and mother out of the room. You tell them, while I ask for your hand in marriage from your dad. Okay?"  
"Sure, sounds good," Lily let out a rattling breath. She was also nervous, "What exactly are you going to say?"  
"Well, I thought something like: I love your daughter. I want to marry her."  
"Not going to work."  
James blinked, "Why?"  
"My father doesn't believe in the word love," she said, "He married for love. And it didn't turn out so well."  
"Ah," James nodded, "All right."  
"Bring up that I'm gifted and talented," she said, "And that you respect that. And you'll protect me. And that you think I'm very smart."  
  
"Well, you aren't arrogant at all," he laughed.  
"I'm serious," Lily smiled brightly, "Make me sound like a Queen, and he'll love you."  
  
It wasn't before long that the two of them were pulling up into a driveway that belonged to a very Muggle-looking house. James's thoughts of seeing Sprite at the door diminished in a matter of seconds as he examined the outside.  
It was plain, and very normal. Unlike Lily at all. It seemed as if no magic lived here at all. A blue house with dark blue shutters, and a white door awaited them as they got out of the car.  
"Well," James said, "It's different than Moody's."  
Lily laughed, "Yeah, no cursed trash bins here, sadly enough."  
The white door opened as they made their way onto the porch. James looked into the faces of an older couple. The woman was alight with graying red hair, and her eyes sparkled green with the same fire that Lily had. The father was chewing on the end of his pipe, his blondish hair decreasing and making the top of his head bald. His eyes were hazy, and seemed to not be totally focused on the couple walking towards them.  
"Ah, how are you, dears," Mrs. Evans said, in a faded Irish accent. It seemed as if maybe her mother had used a worn accent, and she picked up the slightest trace of it from her as a child.  
"We're fine," Lily said, "Good to see you again, Mum."  
The two women hugged, and then Lily embraced her father.  
"Hello, Dad," she addressed him.  
"Nice to have you home, honey," he said, kissing the top of her forehead. She then turned to James, and ushered him forward.  
"This is James Potter," she said, "My boyfriend. The one that I was telling you about."  
  
Mrs. Evans eyed him suspiciously as he extended his hand to her, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Evans," James said.  
Mrs. Evans shook hands with him, and then he turned to Mr. Evans. They also shook hands, and then the four of them entered the living room inside.  
"Petunia's taking time out of her summer to come visit us," Mrs. Evans informed Lily, "She agreed to come and eat brunch with James and the family."  
  
"Reluctantly, mind you," Mr. Evans grumbled.  
"Oh, hush, Henry," Lily's mother tutted, and showed them to the dining room, "Your sister is upstairs, getting her hair ready or some other girlish thing such as that. You can go see her, Lily. She'd probably be very excited to see you. Tell her that the food's ready, and she can come down if she wants."  
  
Lily nodded, gave James's hand one last squeeze for good luck, and then ran up the stairs in the living room to retrieve her sister.  
The house was cozy. The walls were filled with pictures of Lily as a little girl and another blonde girl (who he guessed was Petunia) sitting on ponies at the local fair, getting confirmed, their Muggle school pictures. Lily looked so young, in her jumper and white shirt. That was before she knew what she was. That was before she had become a witch. She had once lived like a Muggle.  
James couldn't picture her as a member of this family, though. They were just so normal, and Lily . . . well . . . Lily was of magic blood.  
"So, James," Mrs. Evans said, "You wouldn't mind helping me set the food out on the table, now would you?"  
"No," James said, rushing to help her in the kitchen, "Not at all."  
"I made all the sorts of food you may like," Mrs. Evans said, "I hope you enjoy it all. Lily never really did tell us exactly what you liked to eat. We asked her last night, but she seemed as if she was in a hurry. Wanting to get back to your little party, no doubt. I've heard so much about you and those other boys. Quite the troublemakers, weren't you?"  
James just stared at her. Did she always talk so much?  
"Yeah," he said weakly.  
"Run, boy," Mr. Evans said, puffing on the end of his pipe, "She never shuts up."  
"What did you say, Henry?"  
"Nothing, Gertrude," he said, disappearing into the bathroom.  
James gulped. Was this what Lily and him were going to be like? Maybe marriage wasn't a good idea after all . . .  
"Here you go, James," she said, handing him a bowl of something that he couldn't quite recognize, "Just place that on the table next to the cornucopia like a good boy. I know, it's too early for cornucopias, but Henry believes they make a wonderful centerpiece. I must agree with him. It does add sort of a flare."  
How had Lily turned out so normal?  
James set the bowl in the middle of the table, as Mrs. Evans brought out a plate of food, "And so . . . if you don't mind me asking . . . are you a wizard?"  
"Yes," James said.  
"Full wizard? Or like Lily?"  
"Full," he said quietly. He really didn't want to tell her about his parents. But with her mouth, she would probably ask him.  
And she didn't disappoint him.  
"How come your parents aren't here, darling?" she asked, stepping into the kitchen again, "Busy with work, maybe? Scared of us . . . oh, what do you call us . . . Muggles?"  
"They're dead," James said, trying to make his voice sound calm. Now would come the question "How did they die?" and what would he say? "They were killed by an evil Dark Lord that is slowly killing off all Muggle borns in the world and . . . oh, yeah . . . by the way . . . your daughter pissed him off a few weeks ago."  
But someone must have been smiling down on him right then, because Lily and an older girl with blonde hair came running down the stairs, Lily trying to bring up a conversation with her.  
The girl looked well into her twenties, with shorter hair and the tiniest waistline that he had ever seen. She looked like she had just sucked a lemon, and this expression became more visible when she saw James standing in her dining room. She was wearing Muggle clothes . . . a flowery skirt and nice top that buttoned in the front. The only thing that her and Lily had in common was their stature. And even then, Lily wasn't as skinny as her sister.  
In second thought, they looked nothing alike.  
"James," Lily said, taking his hand, "This is Petunia, my sister. Petunia, this is James."  
"Nice to meet you," she said, even if she didn't sound like it was nice at all.  
"Yeah, you too," he said, lost for words. What was her problem with him?  
The brunch was very nerve wrecking. All James wanted to do was run out of the room, and go hurl in the bathroom off of the dining room. It was odd to have a bathroom off of a dining room . . .  
"So, James," Mrs. Evans said, "What exactly do you do for a living?"  
"Right now, I'm sort of working as an Auror," James said, "With Lily."  
"What exactly is an Auror?" Mrs. Evans inquired.  
"Sort of like a Bobbie, Mum," Lily said.  
"Ah," she said, "You're an Auror, Lily?"  
"Yes," she said, and then bit into her food.  
"So have either of you seen Voldemort?" she interrogated them, "We receive the . . . oh, what is it called . . . the Daily Prophet for Lily's sake, to catch up on her kind . . . I mean, your kind of course. We've always tried to make Lily feel connected with the wizard world during her holidays. We were so proud of her when she received her letter."  
Lily blushed.  
"We couldn't believe it at first," she plowed on, "We thought it was a joke. But then we decided to see what it was all about, got to the Leaky Cauldron, and there it was! Diagon Alley. Amazing, your world is. Hiding all sorts of things in the least expecting places."  
"Yeah," James said.  
"But about this Voldemort," Mrs. Evans continued, "He's been all over the news, and Lily's told us a little about him. Is he a threat, James?"  
James blinked. She was asking him if Voldemort was a threat? What made him so special?  
"Er . . . well . . . yes," he said, "He is."  
Petunia gave James a look as she reached for the milk pitcher.  
This conversation was going from bad to worse in a matter of minutes. And he didn't appreciate being stared down by her sister . . .  
"Well, Mum," Lily said, changing the subject, "I wanted to talk to you and Petunia once we get finished eating. And James wanted to talk to Dad. Right, James?"  
"Yeah," James said weakly, feeling his stomach churn.  
"Well, what is it, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked.  
"I'll tell you once we're done eating," she said quietly, and then squeezed James's hand under the table.  
  
The brunch had gone very slow. James had watched the clock, hoping that it went so overtime that Moody would come barging in through the fireplace and drag them back before he could sit down and talk to Mr. Evans.  
No such luck.  
Soon the family was ready to disperse, and after the dishes were cleaned up and everything was put away, the women retreated upstairs, and James was left alone in the living room with Mr. Evans, who was still smoking his pipe.  
"Sit down, James," he said, patting an armchair opposite the chair that he was occupying. James coughed, and took a seat.  
"Lily said that you wanted to tell me something important," he said, still chewing on his pipe. The smoke billowed above his head, in ringlets.  
"Yes, well . . ." James cleared his throat, and folded his hands in his lap, "I . . . well, I respect Lily very much. And I think that she is a very intelligent, very sweet, very talented and gifted girl . . ."  
Mr. Evans nodded in agreement, the first sign of a smile coming onto his face.  
"And I love her," he added hopefully. The smile disappeared.  
"You what?" he said.  
"I mean," James tried to recover, "I mean, that I cherish her. And I . . ." he stopped, and then looked him square in the eye, "I want to marry your daughter, Mr. Evans."  
Mr. Evans looked somewhat annoyed. He sighed, and another ringlet came out of his pipe.  
"How old are you, boy?"  
"Eighteen, sir."  
"Eighteen," he huffed, "And how do you expect to support Lily? Give her a good home?"  
"My parents left me money, sir," he said truthfully, "A good deal of it, too. They died a few months ago."  
"Both of them?"  
"Yes," James said sadly, "And my uncle. They all died."  
He didn't know why he was telling Mr. Evans this. Mr. Evans didn't seem to care.  
"And are you going to be . . . an Auror . . . your entire life?"  
"Hopefully not," James said, "After the war, I want to go into Quidditch."  
"That game on broomsticks?"  
"Yes, sir," James said, "I played it at school, and I was pretty good at it."  
Mr. Evans nodded, "So you'll go from being a soldier to being an athlete?"  
"That's the plan, sir," he said.  
Mr. Evans studied him for a moment, and then leaned in forward to him, as if wanting to tell him a secret.  
"Let me tell you something about marriage, James," he said, "And excuse my French, but it's a pain in the ass. I see myself in you, very much so. I see the love I had for that woman that fixes me my dinner every night, and tucked my two lovely daughters into bed, in your eyes. And after about a year of living with that same woman, having to listen to her every day, having to be there for her every minute that she needs you . . . it can wear you down. And slowly that love dies. Slowly, you wake up and find yourself in a hell that you've created. A nine to five job, crying and screaming children . . . don't get me wrong, I love my Lily and Petunia . . . and of course your wife nagging at you. Now do you really want to start that life at age eighteen?"  
  
James looked at him in surprise. Had he just said all of that? He had hardly talked all through brunch, and now he was patronizing him in long sentences?  
"I'm sure, Mr. Evans," he said, his brow furrowed, "I've loved your daughter ever since I saw her. When I was eleven, I was head over heels for her. And now I would give anything for her. I would die for her, Mr. Evans. That's how much I care about her. Call it love, or . . . or call it whatever you want . . . but I made a promise to her that I wouldn't hurt her. That I wouldn't leave her. And I usually tend to keep my promises."  
Mr. Evans's smoke rings grew bigger.  
"And I'm asking you for your good wishes, and . . . and her hand in marriage," James said, "Because that's all that I want, Mr. Evans. If our money runs out, then so be it. If I fail at my goals, then fine. But at least we'll be together. At least I'll have Lily, and she'll have me."  
"She's still a little girl," Mr. Evans argued.  
"Mr. Evans, I probably shouldn't be telling you this," James said, also leaning in closer, "But since you're out of the wizarding ring, I think that it's worth it. Your daughter saved my life. She fought as well as any other Auror that was there, and she defied Voldemort."  
  
Mr. Evans's eyes grew big at the name of Voldemort, and he lowered his pipe, "She did all that?"  
"Yes, sir," James said, "And that's why I love her. She has a spirit, sir. A spirit that can't be broken."  
"Yes, I know that," the man said, and studied James again, "Well, I guess there's only one question left."  
James swallowed, "And what is that, sir?"  
  
"Is it going to be a Muggle wedding, or a wizard wedding?" he asked, his eyes twinkling and coming into focus for the first time.  
James smiled, and shook Mr. Evans's hand, "Thank you, sir. Thank you."  
  
They had left, all faces bright with excitement, except for Petunia. James really didn't like her all that much, but he tried to be polite to her. She reminded him of Snape looking at Lily. Or Remus.  
The two of them got back into their car, and drove off, back onto the road that would take them back to London. Now that it was official, they had planning to look forward to.  
"Our best man's definitely Sirius, then?" Lily asked.  
James nodded, "And Remus, Peter, and Davey as our men of honor. Or at least Remus and Peter. If Davey can make it, then bully for him."  
"And I want Elise Warren to be my maid of honor," Lily laughed, "Oh, won't Sirius love seeing her again?"  
"I think he will," he said, "And what about the bridesmaids?"  
"Well, I was thinking my friends from school," she said, "Maybe Marlene and Emmeliene, and Petunia for sure . . . Bea and Sandra. That would make five bridesmaids. Three men of honors."  
"We can come up with an extra two men of honors," James said, "Probably Sturgis and one of the other Order members would be fine."  
"I can't believe he said yes," Lily grinned, taking his hand again as he tried to steer with one hand, "I was sure that it was going to be a fiasco."  
"Oh, well, thanks," James said, "I think I handled your family pretty well, if I do say so myself." 


	72. Chapter 71: Trapped

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note about groomsmen/men of honor: For the sake of this story, I'm going to call them men of honor. When my aunt and uncle got married, they called them men of honors for some reason, so that's what I'm used to calling it.)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: Again, violence, etc. It's PG-13. Don't read ahead if you're under 13. Thank you.)  
  
"Now listen to me," Moody said, as they trekked through the streets in the dark of the night, "You still are all hot off the press. You still aren't ready for this sort of thing. But I'm warning you, I will not take kindly to any of you that decide that you know better than either Dumbledore or me. You understand?"  
  
"Yes, sir," James said from behind him, and Remus nodded. The entire Order had been called to an abandoned street. Well, it was abandoned now.  
  
Minutes ago, it had been filled with Death Eaters torching Muggle homes. Now the sky was ablaze with fire as the entire street of houses went up in smoke. Muggles were still trapped inside. Some were already dead.  
  
At least five Dark Marks hung over their heads.  
  
It had been one day since they had been let out of training, and already a catastrophe had struck.  
  
"So what exactly are we supposed to be doing?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Hush up, Mr. Black," Moody snapped, "I'm trying to find our colleagues in this smoke."  
  
They walked through the debris and rubble that was now starting to crowd the streets of the cobblestone road. It was an old neighborhood.  
  
Screams came from all around them.  
  
"Frank! Is that you?" Moody said, pushing past a Muggle woman in a space blanket. Frank Longbottom stood talking to Crouch again, and he waved the six of them over.  
  
"There are at least twenty Muggles left in there!" he was shouting at Crouch.  
  
"There's nothing we can do, Mr. Longbottom," Crouch snapped, "I'm not wasting my men's lives to rescue dead bodies."  
  
"They're alive, Bartemus!"  
  
"What's the problem here," Moody said, stepping in between the two of them.  
  
"Crouch says that we don't have clearance to retrieve the bodies and/or rescue survivors," Frank said.  
  
"And since when does Mr. Crouch have the authority to make such calls," Moody snarled, his eye swiveling to look at the older man.  
  
"Since he was made the head of this department, Alastor," Crouch retorted, "Now take your daycare and move out."  
  
There was a scream from inside the closest building. Remus looked up in horror, and peered through the flaming window. The scream hadn't been one of an adult. It had been a child. An innocent Muggle child.  
  
"Now you listen to me," Moody said, drawing closer, "Just because there isn't any Death Eater here for you to arrest doesn't mean that we clear out and ship off. There are victims in there that I'm going to rescue."  
  
Remus heard the scream again.  
  
"Please! Please help me! Mum! Dad!"  
  
It was a boy.  
  
A little boy.  
  
"Take your hero game somewhere else," Crouch said, "We need all of you to go looking for the ones responsible for this. Not clean up their mess. Now get going."  
  
Moody gave him one murderous look, and then turned on his heels, and motioned for his five newly inducted members to follow him.  
  
"Come along," he said, stalking back to the Portkey that they had taken to the sight, "All of you."  
  
He turned around to look at the four of them, "We've got some rats to catch," he then swiveled around, and grumbled to himself, "Crackpots and the Ministry, wanting the best. Pah. That's a load of . . ."  
  
Four.  
  
There had only been four of them.  
  
His eye swiveled back in his head, and through his skull. There stood Mr. Black, next to James, who was holding Lily's hand, who was next to Peter, and next to Peter . . .  
  
"Where's Lupin?" he demanded, turning around again to look at them.  
  
They shrugged, and then looked back at where they had been standing.  
  
"REMUS! NO!" James shouted.  
  
Remus was quickly making his way closer and closer to the flames, reaching to break the window of one of the houses. James felt his hand let go of Lily's as he ran back to stop him. He was going to kill himself!  
  
Moody sighed, took a swig from his hip flask, and waved them back, "Come on, now children. Let's go get your idiot friends out of the fire."  
  
By the time that James had reached Remus, he had crawled in through the large window, and into the flames. He couldn't see him.  
  
Without thinking, he jumped in, holding his cloaks up to his mouth. It was so dark, and foggy. Smoke engulfed him as he went in farther.  
  
"REMUS?" he shouted through the debris, "LUPIN! ARE YOU IN HERE?"  
  
He heard a scream from a room off to the side, and he jumped over a fallen wooden beam, "REMUS!"  
  
A muffled sound.  
  
"Are you in here?" he shouted.  
  
Not a word.  
  
"REMUS! ANSWER ME!"  
  
"Over here, James! Quick! There's a little boy! He's hurt!"  
  
James turned in the other direction, and jumped up the stairs. Another wooden beam fell from the ceiling, missing him by inches.  
  
"James? Where are you?" Lily's voice sounded from downstairs.  
  
James shot his head to look at the hazy silhouette of his fiancee, and shouted, "No! Lily, no! Stay back! There's a kid up here . . ."  
  
But Lily didn't listen to him. She was soon jumping over the flames trying to burn her robes, and the two of them were climbing the stairs.  
  
"I swear," James said, "Sometimes it'd be good if you listened to me."  
  
They turned a corner, and was hit by the blackest smoke that any of them had ever seen. They coughed, and then dropped to the ground, gasping for air.  
  
"Remus?" James hissed.  
  
"I'm in here!" he shouted, "Quick! Help me! He's badly hurt!"  
  
James and Lily crawled across the corridor, and finally turned into a room that looked like a nursery. There stood Remus, the little boy crouched in the corner, unconscious.  
  
The two of them stood, and ran to his side. But Remus wasn't responsive. He was looking straight ahead of him, his eyes gazing into nothingness.  
  
"Moony?" James hit his shoulder, "Come on, we have to . . . Moony?"  
  
Remus didn't answer.  
  
"Remus, are you all right?" Lily said, looking him in the eyes.  
  
"I can always count on you to save your friends," Remus said, in a voice that did not sound like his own. James knew that tone. It was snakelike . . . evil . . .  
  
"Lily," he said, staring at his friend, "Run."  
  
Lily had the little boy in her arms now, and looked at him incredulously, "What?"  
  
"Run, Lily," he said, louder now, "Get out of here."  
  
"Too late, Potter," Remus said. But this time, there was another voice. Speaking simultaneously with him, "You are both mine."  
  
And then, out of the fires and smoke of the entrance, came the shadow of a demon.  
  
Voldemort had returned.  
  
He nodded his head, and Remus collapsed, in a heap, his breathing shallow. James looked to him in horror.  
  
"Come," Voldemort said, "Come with me."  
  
And then he raised his wand.  
  
"JAMES!" Sirius coughed, running upstairs. He had heard a commotion upstairs. One that sounded like a large explosion.  
  
God, if anything had happened to those three . . .  
  
Nothing had happened. It was probably just his imagination.  
  
"Get out of the way, Mr. Black," Moody pushed him out of the way as he flew up the emblazoned stairs, "Don't think that I'm trusting you to lead us into something."  
  
Sirius glared.  
  
"Lily? Remus? James?" Peter shouted through the house. No answer. Sirius turned to him.  
  
"Come on, Wormtail, they're up here!" he shouted.  
  
"Right," Peter said, following Sirius to where Moody had escaped to.  
  
Moody rounded a corner. Black smoke. Too much of it to be natural. Something was wrong here . . . he couldn't see anything . . .  
  
"Hello, Alastor."  
  
A blow to the head from behind. Moody fell to the ground with a "oof!" and his eye popped out of its socket.  
  
"The greatest Auror," the voice came from behind him, towering over him. It was with a very thick accent, "Outdone by me."  
  
The smoke cleared for a moment, so Moody could see the face of the man in front of him. It was a face that only he knew. Holding a white mask, and cloaked in black, was a rigid face that was sneering at him.  
  
"Dolohov," he choked, as "Dolohov" raised his wand to his throat.  
  
"Good. You remember me, old friend," he said, raising his wand, "You shouldn't have let me live."  
  
Moody couldn't see. He was down. The old Auror was going to die at the hands of a Death Eater.  
  
"Avada -"  
  
"NO!"  
  
A shadow came out of the fire, and tackled Dolohov. The two of them slammed into the wall, and hit the ground. Another beam from above fell, and Dolohov coughed.  
  
"YOU FOOL!"  
  
Moody scrambled to his feet, picking his eye off of the floor, and pulled out his wand, "Expelliramus!"  
  
The Death Eater's wand went flying, and the shadow jabbed his own wand at Dolohov's throat.  
  
But Dolohov just laughed.  
  
"Don't you laugh at me," the shadow growled, and Moody blinked. He knew that voice.  
  
"It's too late, you fool," Dolohov laughed in the unknown rescuer's face, "They're gone. They're as good as dead."  
  
There was a pop! And Dolohov had disappeared from sight.  
  
"NO!" The shadow felt through the smoke, trying to find his body, "NO! WHERE ARE THEY? WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM!?"  
  
The shadow stood up, and Moody could see the face of the man who had saved his life. And he grew rigid with surprise.  
  
Sirius Black looked back at him, his eyes hollowed. He pushed his hair out of his face, and he ran past Moody into the nursery. His stature was illuminated by the flames as he stared aimlessly into the room. No one was there, except for a small boy in the corner.  
  
He scanned the room for Lily . . . for Remus . . . for James . . . no one.  
  
They were gone.  
  
"SIRIUS! MR. MOODY!" Peter shouted from the staircase, "THE HOUSE IS COLLAPSING!"  
  
Moody brushed past Sirius, and into the burning nursery. He picked up the boy, and then rushed out.  
  
"Follow me, Mr. Black," he said briskly as he headed for the stairs.  
  
"What about them?" Sirius shouted.  
  
"We can't save them now, Mr. Black," Moody shouted as he descended onto the next level, "He has them."  
  
"NO!" Sirius cried, "NO! I'M NOT LEAVING! JAMES! REMUS! LILY!" he screamed, running into the room.  
  
"Padfoot, come on!" Peter squealed, "Come on! We have to get out of here!"  
  
The roof above Sirius creaked, and he desperately ran into the room, "PRONGS!"  
  
"I'm leaving, Sirius!" Peter shouted from the stairs, and then his voice disappeared.  
  
"JAMES!"  
  
"MR. BLACK!" Frank's voice came from downstairs, "SIRIUS! COME ON! THE HOUSE . . ."  
  
Sirius dropped to his knees. They were gone. He had them. Voldemort had James.  
  
And he would kill him.  
  
He should have been here.  
  
He should have been faster . . .  
  
The smoke engulfed Sirius as he saw Frank's figure in the entrance way. Sirius let his body drop, laughing.  
  
"Why do you think that you have to laugh?" James had asked.  
  
He couldn't stop himself. The tears just came. They were gone. He hadn't been there to save them.  
  
He felt Frank's arms hoist him to his feet, and then force him to walk out of the nursery, down the corridor, down the stairs, and through the broken window.  
  
And Sirius couldn't stop laughing. 


	73. Chapter 72: A Bond Between Wizards

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: Sorry for a very short chapter. But I wanted to make it count.)  
  
"What do we do now, Albus?"  
The Order had returned to Headquarters. All of them. People that Sirius hadn't even seen for months. People that weren't there to see three of his friends die. Three of his friends all at the same time . . .  
He was sitting in the corner of the living room, away from the other members that were perched on their chairs in their straight rows. He was detached, and he could feel Moody's eye watching him from where he stood with Frank Longbottom, leaning up against the opposite wall.  
Dumbledore stood in front of all of them, his eyes no longer sparkling. He sighed, and then put a hand up to his chin to think.  
"I don't know what else we can do," he said.  
"Well, do you think that he's going to try to get information out of them?" Frank asked.  
Dumbledore shook his head, "No. Voldemort has taken a sort of interest in James Potter. I do not know what exactly this entails, but I would bet all of my earnings that he will try to recruit him. Or kill him, no matter what. Our spies say that James hurts his pride, and Tom was never one to let go of a grudge. But I do not believe he kidnapped him to kill him."  
Sirius's head shot up, and looked at the old Headmaster.  
"They're not dead?" he shouted.  
"I do not know for sure, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said truthfully, "We can only hope."  
"Well, then we have to get going!" Sirius said, standing up, "We have to save them!"  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again with the light of the fireplace as Sirius grabbed his cloak, and Frank rushed forward.  
"Now, Sirius," he started, "We can't risk more lives of the Order by trying to save . . ."  
"They're alive!" Sirius barked, "They . . ." he looked back at the Order, a look of realization seeping onto his face.  
"That's it? You're just letting him kill them?"  
"Sirius," Marlene started, "There are sacrifices. We have all had them."  
"Surely Alastor taught you that lesson," Elphias chortled.  
Sirius glared at them, "NO!" he shouted, "NO! I'M NOT GIVING UP! THEY'RE OUT THERE! THEY'RE ALIVE! WE . . ."  
"Stop your shouting, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said. Her face was very pale, and she had been toying with the hem of her robes for a while. She looked very sick.  
"Whatever happened to protecting the innocent?" Sirius barked at Dumbledore, "Huh? Are they not innocent enough for you?!"  
  
"Sirius . . ."  
"Fine!" he said, and disappeared from the living room, sweeping into the hall, "I'll go by myself! James and Remus and I had a pact! And I'm not breaking it!"  
"Where are you going?" Frank asked as Sirius opened the door.  
"I'm going to find them," he retorted as he slammed the front door behind him.  
It was cold in the night. The crickets were chirping loudly from the green grass below as Sirius stormed down the front pathway, and to the sidewalk. They were alive. And if no one else was going to do anything about it, he would go by himself.  
"You know, there are faster ways of getting there."  
Sirius stopped, and turned around to face a hunched figure on the house porch. He was leaning up against one of the columns, his arms crossed, and both of his eyes staring straight at him.  
"What do you want," Sirius barked at Moody.  
Moody sighed, and started down the porch steps, "You've really done it this time, Mr. Black. You really have."  
"If you're not going to . . ."  
  
"You saved my life," Moody cut him off, reaching the pavement, "And in doing so, you welded a bond between the two of us. Whether you like it or not, I'm forced to owe you my life."  
Sirius stared at him. Was Moody . . . was he thanking him?  
"What?" he said, unbelievingly.  
"Antonin Dolohov," he started, folding his arms, "He was the one that was responsible for the death of Jonathon June. And then he went after his mother and father. He's a Russian wizard with poor teeth and even poorer temper. I had him in my grasp a few years ago, and I was going to haul him off to a speedy trial. He wanted me to kill him, but I couldn't. You know why?"  
Sirius didn't answer, and let Moody continue his story.  
"Because you're right," he said, his swiveling eye staring him straight on, "I am the one that they call merciful. I'm not a murderer, Mr. Black. I do not take pride in destroying a life when it could have been saved. Only when it is a necessity do I kill something that valuable and priceless."  
Sirius nodded, "So you're going to help me get them back."  
"I have to," Moody said, "I'm in debt to you, aren't I? I trust you to do the right thing."  
And then he turned around, motioning for Sirius to follow him, "Now come on now, Mr. Black. You're not going to get anywhere by walking."  
But Sirius was frozen to the spot. The last words that he had said to him rang through his head. He looked at the profile of the older Mad-Eye, now making his way up the stairs, taking a swig from his hip flask.  
"I thought you said you'd never trust someone from my family," Sirius spoke up, and this comment made Moody turn around, and smile down at him.  
"And I never will," he said simply.  
There was a silence as Sirius stared at it, glaring. What did he mean by all this?  
"You aren't from that family," he added, "I know that now."  
Another silence as Sirius and Moody looked to each other, not moving, but only smiling.  
"Now come on," the old Auror said, "I know where they would have taken them." 


	74. Chapter 73: Forever Alive

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Again, French translations: Thank you very much for the translations to everyone that has sent them to the review board. When I get the time, I will edit my translations. Much appreciated.)  
  
(A note for readers under 13: This is a violent chapter. Please do not continue if you are under 13, due to the PG-13 rating. You guys know the drill by now. Thanks.)  
  
The room was dark. Darker than anything that James had ever seen. He groggily opened his eyes, blinked, and the world came into view. He could feel his arms bound to his side, and he sat in a wooden chair, gagged. He felt so weak. What had happened?  
In front of him stood a greasy looking man, filled with muscle and his slick hair falling in his face. His teeth were rotted, and his rigid figure was leaning against the wooden wall, his wand tapping his hand in rhythm to something that James couldn't hear.  
"Ah, the brat is awake," he mumbled to himself in a thick Russian accent, peering down his long crooked nose at the boy. James could have sworn that it was Snape, if Snape had been a few years older, and in shape. Which he wasn't.  
He turned to look to his right. There was Lily. She was bound and gagged as well, already struggling with her bonds. She was glaring at this man in front of them.  
But where was Lupin?  
Where were they?  
Footsteps in a hall outside as another figure joined the Russian guard. He was equally as large as his colleague, and spoke in another foreign accent.  
"Are both of them awake," he asked in a cold tone.  
"Yes, Igor, they are both awake," the man replied, and then resituated his white mask onto his face, and exited the room.  
"Lily," James said, trying to speak through his gag. But the sound was muffled, and Lily just gave him a frightened look as they faced the new guard in the doorway.  
"So you're the Potter boy," "Igor" said, sneering, "Yes, I remember that family. I was there when he killed them. I was behind him, watching him do it. Your mother was screaming, pleading for her life."  
James's eyes narrowed.  
"And your father was a coward," he said, "He was begging for mercy when he killed him. He was always one for groveling."  
James lunged forward, but the locking curse had been delivered well, and he was thrown back in his chair.  
"I killed your sister, you know," he smiled, revealing worse teeth than the man before him, "I enjoyed it. She was just like your mother. Screaming. Crying."  
James felt like crying again. Lily looked from Igor to James, and then back to Igor.  
Dust filled the room, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling's corners. The sun was setting, James knew. He wondered what the other members were doing right now. Where was Remus?  
Was he alive?  
The image of him dead, clawed to death like Jonathon June, came back to him. He shook his head. That wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen.  
It wouldn't happen.  
"Stop torturing our guests, Karkaroff," a snakelike hiss came from the corridor outside, and Igor's face lost all color.  
"Master, I was only . . ."  
"Silence."  
And then, James saw the man again for the third time. Him and Lily faced Voldemort once again. He was sneering at them, as if he knew something that could kill them both in a matter of seconds. He held his wand to James as he stepped into the vacant room, and nodded.  
"You have been very brave, my friend," he growled, "But sadly, with bravery comes stupidity," he pointed his wand closer to him, "Crucio."  
  
A pain like no other jolted through James's body. He screamed from behind his gag, and felt his muscles convulse and shake. Lily screamed, and James gave out a cry.  
"Tears, Potter?" Voldemort said, stopping the spell with a wave of his hand, "Ah, you are human."  
James glared, breathing heavily. He couldn't get enough air from behind that gag. He couldn't breathe . . .  
"You are probably wondering to yourself why I took the trouble out of my War to bother with the likes of you," Voldemort said, drawing closer, "No one defies me. No one."  
With a flick of his wand, the gag unbound itself from James's head, and fell to the ground in a heap. James lunged forward, and spat in the Dark Lord's face. Voldemort did not look amused, and he raised his wand again.  
"Crucio," he hissed.  
The pain had returned, and James's neck jolted back, his eyes rolling back in his sockets. He muffled a scream, and Voldemort laughed.  
"You have courage, I will give you that," he snarled, "And that is why I will spare your life one last time. I am giving you one last chance to change your answer, Potter. If you agree to accompany me and join my regime, I shall reward you with all of your dreams. Power, Potter. Power and riches. And your darling lady will be spared. Along with the werewolf."  
James's eyes grew wide.  
"Where's Remus?"  
Voldemort gave another cold laugh, and his lip curled into a sneer, "You do know that it was twenty eight days ago that he last transformed."  
James and Lily's faces grew pale, and they looked in horror to him. He found this amusing.  
"I suppose you have heard of June, have you not?" he prodded them on, "His father I believe you were well acquainted with."  
"WHERE'S REMUS?!" James shouted.  
"Crucio," Voldemort said again, but this time, he pointed his wand to Lily. It was now Lily's turn to shake in her chair, before going still again.  
His cold laugh sounded through the room for another time.  
"The sun is almost set, Potter," Voldemort said, "If you defy me again, I shall kill her," he pointed to Lily, who looking very maddened, "And I shall let the werewolf destroy himself. All I need to do is persuade the wolf inside. Dolohov is excellent with handling beasts like him."  
James clenched his fists; "I'll never join you."  
Voldemort's face sunk, "You are a fool. And for your stupidity, you will watch your friends die. One by one. Until you swear your allegiance to me."  
"I won't!" James shouted, "I won't!"  
"Then let them die," Voldemort snarled, and waved his wand at the two of them, "Imperio."  
The same happy feeling came over James as he felt his arms relax, and the bonds broken. Everything was happy with the world. Everything was . . .  
  
His vision had cleared. The happiness was gone.  
He went to open his mouth, but he couldn't. Voldemort smiled evilly, and then looked into his eyes.  
"You will join me."  
James couldn't say anything. He was frozen. He had no control over what he did or said. The curse was still put upon him, but the hazy feeling had been lifted. He felt his face relax, and smile back at Voldemort.  
Inside he was screaming.  
"Come," Voldemort said, ushering the two of them out of their chairs and into the corridor, "It is time to see what happens when a monster becomes wild."  
They reluctantly followed him out of the room, and down the hall. James could see empty rooms on all sides of him, some of them filled with devices that he had never seen, and others so ghostly quiet it seemed as if someone had died enclosed in their walls.  
It seemed as if a thousand spirits were screaming out at them, clawing through the doorways, warning them of what was to come.  
There was a room ahead of them, in which the first Russian guard had entered. His shouting voice came from behind the open door as Lily, James, and the Dark Lord arrived downstairs.  
"Get up, you filthy animal," he said, and something gave a cry like it had just been kicked.  
Remus, James thought.  
"You will die, because of your friend's pride," he snapped, and Voldemort raised a hand to the door.  
"Dolohov, come," he hissed, and the Russian appeared from the room. He was grinning, and wiping his hands on his robes, as if he had just touched something greasy and dirt ridden.  
"My Lord, the moon is almost full," he said in his thick accent, and then bowed as the three of them passed him. James wanted to reach out and grab his throat.  
Walk, a voice said in his head.  
Walk with me.  
No!  
I don't want to walk! Leave me alone!  
A pain ran through his head, and he gave up trying. It wasn't a lesson with Moody anymore. This was real life. He couldn't break Voldemort's spell.  
They entered the room, and James felt his heart drop. There was Remus, lying on the floor, struggling for a breath. His face was covered in sweat, and his hair was clumped together in a feverish spell. He knew it wouldn't be long now.  
Remus, don't give up, James thought, Don't give up.  
"Your friends have decided to see the world in a new way," Voldemort lied, and James and Lily grinned maliciously from behind him.  
NO! James thought, NO! Don't believe him, Remus! Don't . . .  
"You must have known that one day it would come to this," James heard himself say darkly, "You are a monster after all."  
Remus was breathing heavily, his cheek to the cold hard ground, staring unbelievingly at his two friends. His eyes were wide, and he looked very confused.  
That's right, Moony, James thought, It isn't us. Don't give up.  
God, if only he could give him a sign! If only he could just break free for one moment to show him that he was still here!  
"Sadly, we do not take Dark creatures into our ranks," Lily said in a tone that actually sounded just like her. If James hadn't known better, he would have thought that she was truthfully saying such an evil thing to Remus.  
"No," Remus coughed in a small voice; "I know your tricks. James would never . . ."  
"This is no trick, werewolf," Voldemort sneered, "And now you shall die. And our world will be rid of one less piece of filth."  
And then the three of them turned, and walked back to the open door where Dolohov was standing. Remus shakily got to his feet, and ran after them.  
"Oh, no you don't," Dolohov said, and raised his wand, "Expelliramus."  
Remus went flying back, and hit the bare wall behind him. With a groan, he fell to the floor again, and Dolohov laughed.  
"Good night, werewolf," he said as he slammed and bolted the door.  
Remus was alone.  
The sunlight was coming through one window, high on the wall. It was slowly diminishing, and the sky was becoming darker. He had lay in that room all day, ever since Voldemort had transported them here. He knew what had been ahead of them.  
He knew the story of Jonathon June.  
It had haunted him every night ever since he had joined the Order.  
"I know it isn't you, James!" he shouted, hoping that James could hear. His friend's eyes had been cold and dead. They hadn't had that glow to them like James had.  
James had lost everything. And now he would turn to the Dark side? Not likely.  
And Lily would never turn. Not even if they had James at wand point, threatening to kill him. She would never join.  
They were loyal. It had to be the Imperius Curse.  
He had to stay strong.  
The moonlight hit the floor, and quickly filled the room. It seemed brighter tonight. It seemed closer, and Remus could already hear the wolf howling inside.  
"NO!" Remus cried, "NO! YOU'RE NOT GOING TO KILL ME!"  
But the transformation had already started.  
  
"You can stop this at any time, Potter," Voldemort hissed, "Join me, and I'll close that window and give him proper medical attention. Join me, and I will spare him."  
The Imperius curse was lifted, and James felt his arms go stiff again. He was in charge of his body again, and he twisted and struggled to get to the man that stood in front of him. Yet, he couldn't move his arms from his side.  
"Why don't you just make me say it," he snarled.  
Voldemort's eyes grew cold, "Because a man like you cannot be truthfully my servant unless you yourself agree to it. I admire your bravery, Potter. And I want to use it against this filth that clutters our perfect world," he waved his wand to the door.  
"That filth in there is twice the man you are," Lily shouted from James's shoulder.  
Voldemort's eyes glew with fire as he raised his wand to Lily; "I shall also kill her if you do not join."  
There was a howl from behind the door, and Dolohov laughed, "It has begun."  
  
The wolf was back. And he was smiling evilly at Remus, laughing yet again.  
Tonight, you die, my friend, the wolf said.  
And then Remus felt a sharp pain on his neck. He howled, and fell to the ground.  
NO! he shouted, NO!  
He threw the wolf off, and resurfaced. Panting heavily, he glared at the wolf that was lying underneath him.  
Tonight you die, Remus snarled back.  
  
Another howl. James went to run to the door, but the bonds were still working on his arms. Voldemort gave out his cold laugh as he studied this boy in front of him.  
"Just like your father," he said, amused, "Your pride will kill you, James. You and I both know that. I will kill you all tonight before letting you escape me again."  
"I'll never join you!" he shouted, "Go ahead! Kill us all!"  
"There are things worth fighting for, are there, Potter?" Voldemort sneered.  
James's eyes grew wide.  
"I read your mind that Christmas night," Voldemort laughed, "I know every memory before that point. I know everything about you. I know everything about your life. You have no secrets from me."  
James glared, and another howl resounded from behind them.  
"You were a good son," Voldemort continued, "You loved your family, didn't you? You loved that stupid house-elf."  
"Shut up," James snarled.  
"Good, feel the hatred well up inside of you," Voldemort grinned, "That is the only power. Hatred is stronger than anything on this earth. You would like to kill me, wouldn't you, Potter?"  
He didn't answer.  
The door jolted as Remus threw his body onto it, and Dolohov's smile grew larger.  
"It won't be long now, my Lord," he said.  
  
You think you can kill me! The wolf laughed, You can't kill me! I am you!  
Remus leaped for his throat, and felt the pain hit his own neck. The wolf took this moment to slam them into a wall, and Remus's head hit the stone.  
"AAAAOOOO!"  
Let me guess, the wolf laughed, standing above him, This is the point in which you say that you will not die. And then I kill you.  
Remus struggled to get to his feet.  
The wolf kicked him back down to the ground.  
Except this time, the wolf added, You won't come back.  
  
"This is your last chance, Potter," Voldemort said, "I am losing my patience."  
"No," James said. His heart was pounding. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to strangle him.  
Voldemort grew darker, and his eyes narrowed. His lip curled, and he raised his wand to point at his head.  
"So be it," he hissed.  
BAM!  
The four of them snapped their heads to look to where the sound had come from.  
"Downstairs," Voldemort said, nodding to Dolohov, "The front door."  
Dolohov returned the nod, and ran down the staircase to the lower level. Voldemort turned towards James yet again, and his smile returned.  
"Now, where were we . . ."  
BAM!  
A laughing came from downstairs, and then a crash of glass. The remaining three turned to listen to what was happening underneath their feet. James's heart had stopped pounding, and he let out a breath of relief.  
He knew that laugh.  
"Up here!" Lily shouted, also recognizing the voice.  
Another crash and then the wall shook.  
Another howl from inside the room. It wasn't as strong now. It was weaker. Remus was dying.  
James struggled with his bonds. He couldn't get free! His friend was going to die! He had to save him!  
If only he could reach his wand.  
Voldemort was glaring at him, a smile coming across his face. He waved his hand, and James was freed. The Dark Lord threw his wand back to him, and his smile diminished.  
"I dare you," he jeered, "Hit me, Potter. I'm giving you your chance. Hit me."  
"You killed them," he cried, pointing his newly returned wand at the man's darkened face, "You killed them! You took everything that I had away from me!"  
There was another crash downstairs.  
"DIFFINDO!" James cried, and lashed his wand out at his opponent. Lily struggled with her bonds to help him, but she couldn't get herself free.  
A slash of blood cut across Voldemort's cheek, and he gave out a howl that sounded like a maddened animal. He put his hand to his face, and his eyes grew wide as he saw the blood on his skin.  
"You are human," James snarled.  
Voldemort raised his wand, "YOU LITTLE BRAT!"  
"Tom! Leave the boy alone, Tom!"  
It was Dumbledore! Dumbledore was here!  
Voldemort glared at James, "I will kill you, Potter. I will kill you. Mark my words, I will hunt you down and murder you with my own hands until you are dead and cold on the floor, bowing to me. I'll come when you least expect it. I'll be that shadow in your bedroom. That stranger that you cross on the street. That unsuspecting guest at your house. I will find you, Potter. And I will kill you."  
And then with a flash of light, the Dark Lord was gone.  
Their bonds were broken, and Lily flung herself into James's arms. He held her for a moment, until he heard the weakest howl of them all come from behind the door.  
"Remus . . ." he turned towards the staircase, and shouted, "UP HERE! UP HERE!"  
There was a sound of footsteps, and five bodies flew into view, all wands out and pointed in different directions. Dumbledore, his eyes alight with life, Frank, Moody, Peter, and Sirius Black.  
"James! You're alive!" Sirius cried as he ran to embrace his two friends. Peter followed him, and looked in horror at James's haunted face.  
"Are-are you all right?" he stammered.  
The door in front of them shook, and Moody's eye swiveled to look through it.  
"Damn them," he said, running to the door, "Someone help me. Alohomora."  
Moody kicked the door open and rushed inside. A weak snarl came from out of sight. Sirius's face grew pale.  
"What happened," he demanded as he let go of Lily and James.  
"They tried to kill him," James said quietly, "Like June's son."  
Sirius just stared at him. His eyes were wide with fear, and slowly he turned to step into the room. His shoulders sagged as he saw the sight before him.  
Moony was lying in the corner, his chest heaving. He was covered in claw marks, and his eyes were closed. His face was contorted with pain, and he seemed to be moaning. He was still in wolf form.  
"Stay back," Moody said to Sirius quietly, "He's still not Remus yet."  
"Is he alive?" Sirius asked.  
"Yes," Moody said, "Barely, but yes. He's alive," he then waved his wand, "Mobilicorpus."  
The wolf flew into the air, and hovered in front of Moody and Sirius. He looked so weak. So . . . lost.  
"Your friends are lucky to have you, Mr. Black," Moody said, leading Moony out of the room, "They would all be dead if it weren't for your loyalty."  
Sirius smiled to himself as he watched the old Auror disappear into the hallway to speak with Dumbledore and Frank. He had proved himself. And in doing so, he had finally been inducted into the Order. Truthfully, they now trusted him. Frank even smiled at him as he led him (along with James, Lily, and Peter) outside the run down mansion.  
They passed Dolohov's unconscious body as they opened the door to the front walk. He was sprawled out on the couch of the large common room his mouth hanging open. Broken glass littered the floor and cushions that surrounded him.  
"You two are lucky to be alive," Frank said, as they stepped outside, "Very lucky."  
James was lagging behind Lily and Frank, and walked in step with Sirius and Peter as they crossed the lawn to a stone gargoyle. He looked shaken, and he was looking down at his feet, examining his laces.  
"Thanks," he mumbled as Moody, Dumbledore, and a floating werewolf exited the mansion.  
Sirius nodded, "Something messes with one of us . . ."  
"It messes with all of us," James finished, "Yeah, I know."  
"Come on now," Frank said, tapping the stone gargoyle, "I don't want to stick around here all night. They aren't going to stay Stunned forever."  
The band of members quickly rushed to touch the gargoyle, and then in a matter of seconds, they had disappeared.  
And the night was quiet once again.  
  
"We found them at Antonin Dolohov's old place," Moody said, "You know, where they used to take the Muggles to torture them. A bunch of empty rooms, filled with spells and enchantments. We thought that they wouldn't have the nerve to continue to use it, but we were wrong."  
"They were very lucky," Professor McGonagall said, peering into Remus's room. The four young members of the Order had been sitting there all night, waiting for Remus to wake up. The wolf had been silent and still since they had brought it home. Sirius had sat next to the beaten monster since they had placed them there, and Peter had been pacing the floor nervously, muttering anxiously to himself. Lily and James sat by Sirius, holding hands, examining their friend lying on the bed, silent.  
Moody had warned them that if Moony woke up, then he could tear them apart. They didn't seem to care.  
They were loyal friends. It wasn't everyone that shared a bond like that with another person.  
"Yes," Moody said, "I know."  
"Do you trust him now?" Professor McGonagall asked, eyeing him over her square spectacles. Moody sighed, and took a drink from his hip flask.  
"With my life," he replied simply, and then went back to watching the scene before them.  
"Will he be all right, Alastor?"  
Moody nodded, "Yes. He was lucky tonight. Too lucky. You remember June's boy, don't you?"  
"Oh, Alastor," she gasped, "They didn't . . ."  
"They did," he said, his expression darkening, "They used the same room. The same technique. Two minutes later and Lupin would have been dead."  
All color that the professor had left in her complexion drained, and she looked fit to faint.  
  
"He asked me to join again," James said quietly, squeezing Lily's hand, "They were going to kill him if I didn't."  
"What did you say?" Sirius asked, not taking his eyes off of Moony's limp body.  
"No," James mussed his hair, and then said to no one in particular, "But I still don't know if it was the right choice."  
Peter stopped pacing, and turned to look at James curiously.  
"What?" he said.  
"Because of my pride," James explained, "Lily and Remus would have died. Is my freedom worth that? Is my pride worth that?"  
Sirius took a deep breath, and then turned away from Moony. He ushered Peter over, and then drew in closer to his three friends. He had a spark in his eye that he had never shown before, as they huddled together.  
"Right now," he said, "We're making a new pact."  
"What?" Peter asked.  
"That no matter what," Sirius said, "No matter what sort of risks we take on ourselves, we will give our life to any one in this room, no questions asked. We will sacrifice for each other, as long as the outcome is right. If Voldemort has a wand to my head, and says that he's going to kill me if James doesn't turn, then so be it. He can kill me. Are we all agreed on this?"  
Slowly, the three of them nodded.  
"They were right," Sirius said, "There's a bigger cause out there. It's bigger than any of us here. But we stick together, all right? We stick together and look out for each other. Because you four are all I've got left. And I'm not going to see you die."  
No one said a word as Sirius held out his hand in the middle of them, and said, "Forever alive, all right? We're not going to die." James set his hand on Sirius's rough knuckles, followed by Lily, and finally Peter. And if Remus had been able to, he would have joined his friends. They knew that his spirit was with them, and would agree with their pact.  
The four of them sat there, staring at their hands as if they had just sworn a solemn oath. Slowly, James smiled sadly as his friends..  
"Forever alive," James agreed. 


	75. Chapter 74: The Maid of Honor

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
It was that morning that Remus finally opened his eyes. He looked like he had just been through a war, still drenched in his own sweat. There were two large gashes on his neck, and his arms and legs were badly injured.  
"Good morning," he muttered as his four friends circled the bed. Sirius took the water in a glass from the pitcher sitting on his chest of drawers, and ran to his friend in the bed.  
"Morning," he mumbled back as he sat down next to him, and handed him the glass, "Drink up. Moody put a sort of potion in there. He says it'll numb the pain."  
"Mm," Remus said as Sirius helped him drink it. He looked like he was in pain, indeed. No one had seen him this bad off, not even that night when he had been locked in the pantry. This was the worst that the wolf had done.  
"Moony," James started, "I . . . they had us under a spell . . ."  
  
"You didn't turn," Remus said weakly, hazily looking at them through his glassy eyes, "I . . . I knew you wouldn't. I know you, James. You would never turn."  
  
"Just rest," Lily said, sitting on the other side of him, "We need you to get back up on your feet."  
"I saw June," Remus mumbled feverishly as Lily pushed him back onto the bed. Peter eyed him suspiciously from the foot of the bed.  
"What'd you say, mate?" he asked nervously.  
"He was in the room with me," Remus closed his eyes again, and Sirius took this opportunity to give a worried look to James. James shrugged, but his face was very white, and he was staring at Remus is curiousity.  
"He was there, guys. He said that I wasn't going to die. That he wouldn't let me."  
"No one was in there with you, Moony," James said tediously.  
Remus shook his head, "I saw him. He was there."  
And then with a groan, he went back to sleep.  
"You reckon that he was hallucinating?" Sirius asked, taking the glass of water back to the chest of drawers.  
"Must have been," James said, shaking his head, "You saw him. He looked dead when Moody opened the door. I thought he was until I saw him breathing."  
Lily nodded, "But there was something about that house. It was like . . . it was like the spirits had never left, you know?"  
Peter shrugged, "It gave me the willies, if that's what you mean."  
"They killed Muggles there," Sirius said, "Moody explained it all to me. They took them in there and tortured them. And not just Muggles, but Muggle-borns. And people like . . . well, like Remus."  
Peter shuddered, and Lily and James looked back at their sleeping friend. It had been too close. They all three could have been dead if it hadn't been for Sirius.  
"It kind of drives it home, doesn't it?" Sirius said, giving out a small laugh, "What Moony's got to face daily?"  
"What do you mean?" Lily asked.  
"People like Dolohov," Sirius explained, "People that think that he's not human."  
"But he is," Peter retorted.  
"We know that," James said, sitting on the bed, and placing his hand on Remus's cut one, "But they don't."  
  
Remus was back on his feet in no time. Yet again, they had evaded the Dark Lord and lived to tell the tale. They were wiser for it, and the pact that they had made that night stayed with them every minute of their days.  
Remus could be seen sitting with the rest of them as they spoke to Moody in the dining room about their futures during dinner the next day. The only thing that he had to show for his night of hell was a sling wrapped around his left arm. Moody, even if he was an excellent Auror and wonderful at potions and healing, seemed to know nothing about fractures.  
"Let it heal, Lupin," Moody had said, "We seem to forget that the best way is the natural course of things."  
Moody had taken pity on him, and had fixed him the pain killer every six hours.  
They had gathered to talk about housing and jobs, since they were expected to move out of the Headquarters soon and return to regular life. Well, as regular as you could get being a member of the Order.  
Lily and James had found a very nice house to purchase as their wedding present. James saying that his parents had left him a bit of money was the understatement to top them all. His parents had left everything to him, which mean that he was now faced with thousands and thousands of Galleons from Uncle Charlie and both of his parents each. It made Sirius's legacy look like pocket change.  
As for Sirius, he was to find another flat far away from London and his family, and go into a wizarding home. He didn't seem to keen on this idea, but he couldn't argue with Dumbledore. He had respect for him, and had decided that it would be best to do what he told him to do.  
Peter was also looking into buying a small house. Not as large as Lily and James's, but just a cozy one-level. He was looking into working for the Ministry so he could support himself.  
Remus was to move into his parent's old house. His folks were retiring now, and they had decided to move to the country (if you could get more rural than where they were currently living on the outskirts of Nottingham), and was leaving the house to him. It wasn't much, but somewhere to stay. Ever since the night at Dolohov's, Moody had announced that Remus was a free man. They wouldn't bother with him again. James had told all of them exactly what Voldemort had said to him, and they had realized that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would make James suffer for Remus and Lily.  
And James wouldn't hide from Voldemort.  
"Don't you think you two would be better off here?" Moody inquired of him during their talk, "Where we could keep an eye on you? Because you've really done it, Potter. He's out for your neck, I'll have you know."  
  
"I'm not hiding," James said, putting his arm around Lily, "He wants to find me, he can find me. I'll kill him first."  
Moody sighed, and then muttered something that sounded like, "Teenagers."  
They were to leave for their different destinations in a week. The Order's agents were trying to help them get ready in time. Moody seemed sort of relieved to let them go and have his house back again, yet he seemed on ends about every single detail.  
"I'll show you how to curse your trash bins, Potter," he said to James one day, "They never suspect the trash bins."  
In the meantime, Lily had been trying to get her mind off of that horrible night by planning the wedding. She had called all of her old schoolfriends to meet her and James at the Leaky Cauldron in London to speak about what they needed to do, when they needed to do it, and so forth. James's friends would be attending as well, and bringing these two worlds together seemed to be heading for a catastrophe.  
For the seven years that they had been at Hogwarts, the giggly girls that Lily had befriended looked down their noses at the marauders. The girls were poised, polished, and walked around campus like porcelian dolls. They were the focus of every boy's attention (when they weren't looking at Professor Nanes) and took great pride in their appearance.  
On the other hand, the boys that James had befriended were the exact opposite, and the focus of all of the girl's attention. They had never truly paid any attention to the giggly girls, but found them as annoying little berks when they did notice them. These two groups had never truly been friends, and had never truly become acquainted with the other.  
Lily knew that the girls hated the boys, and they seemed to be heading for a head-on collision, having a marriage between Giggly Girl Number One and Prongs.  
There also seemed to be some sort of attraction left between Giggly Girl Number Two and Padfoot.  
Sirius's eyes had grown bright and cheery as Lily told him who her maid of honor was to be. It was minutes before they were to meet everyone at the pub, and the three of them could be found in James's room as he quickly tried to tidy himself up.  
He ran his fingers through his hair, and said very casually, "Elise, hey? She ever said anything about me after the dance?"  
Lily had laughed, and then nodded, "Yes, she did."  
"You reckon she still remembers me?" he asked James, who was trying to throw a clean shirt on before heading out for the pub.  
"Maybe," James said, mussing his hair. He didn't want it to get too neat.  
"Are we ready to go?" Remus asked from the hallway, poking his head in through the door.  
"Just give us one minute," James said, struggling with his belt buckle, "We're almost ready."  
"Come on, Prongs!" Sirius urged him, "Let's get going!"  
"I'm sorry, but I'm running a little late," he said.  
"Then you should have started earlier," he barked, and grabbed his arm, thrusting him towards the door, "No one's going to be looking at what belt buckle you're wearing! No one cares! Let's go! Get! Out the door! Now!"  
  
The Leaky Cauldron was very crowded for a Wednesday night. Hags and witches and wizards milled around the room, shouting to each other and taking large swigs of their drinks. Lily laughed as they entered, and she spotted her old school friends looking disgusted at the sight before them. Bea, the leader of the group, who had always been very snooty towards anyone that defied her, was dressed in her Sunday best, clutching her purse close to her side. She was eyeing an old man in a wizard's hat suspiciously as she backed away, closer to Sandra.  
Sandra had been her little stooge, and second in command. A little smarter, and a little more cynical. But Lily loved them both. Not as much as the boys, but well enough to invite them to dinner.  
And behind them both stood the third girl, Elise.  
"Hello, Bea," Lily waved as they drew nearer, "Sandra, Elise. How are you?"  
"Oh no," James muttered to Remus, "It's the fashion brigade."  
Remus laughed, as he fidgetted with the strap on his sling, "I don't know. That Sandra girl is looking pretty nice tonight."  
But Sirius didn't look too amused.  
In fact, he was too busy looking to Elise, who was now kissing Lily on the cheek.  
"It's so nice of you to invite us to be at your wedding," she said, as Lily ushered the boys over. They all sheepishly looked at the girls, as if they had returned to Hogwarts for another term. It was a mix of being attracted and being appalled. Except for Sirius, who was fully attracted.  
"Hello," he said weakly, as Elise drew closer to say hello to the four boys following obidiently behind Lily.  
Her black hair was in a high ponytail, and she wore enough makeup to kill a horse. But that didn't bother Sirius. Her blue eyes sparkled as she caught sight of him.  
"Ah, Sirius Black," she said, "You have to leave early tonight?"  
Sirius nervously laughed, and rubbed the back of his neck, "No, not tonight. How are you, Elise?"  
"Pretty well," she said, and looked over Sirius's shoulder, "Hello, Remus."  
Remus waved, "Hey, Elise."  
"Never thought I'd see you again," she said, looking back to Sirius, "I heard you left town."  
"I did," he said, "Got a job. New house."  
She nodded quietly, and then turned back to Sandra as they made their way to a vacant table.  
"What happened to your friend's arm, Lily?" Bea asked, taking a seat next to Sandra.  
"He had an accident," Lily lied, smiling, "Tried to take Sirius's bike out for a spin, and ended up crashing."  
Remus, overhearing this, frowned. Peter tried to hide his laughs from behind his hands.  
James sat next to Lily, and his three friends sat on the other side of him. They faced the giggly girls, who weren't so giggly now, in fear and in nerves. It seemed as if they suspected the boys to hex them at any minute.  
"Well, we were planning to have it at a church in London," Lily said, "We're inviting my entire family, and all of our friends from school. And some of our co-workers."  
"Oh, this is going to be so beautiful," Sandra breathed. Bea scoffed.  
"What church?" she said, "Muggle or wizard?"  
"Wizard," James said, "The Evans's have decided that they would be willing to let their daughter marry under the circumstances that she was born to."  
Remus looked over to his left, where Sirius and Elise were nervously smiling at each other. He rolled his eyes, and kicked Sirius from under the table.  
"It's not your wedding, Padfoot," he muttered under his breath, "Listen."  
"Why do you have to kick me?" Sirius snarled.  
"Because Peter's too far away to reach your leg, and James is preoccupied at the moment," Remus replied, and Sirius, grumbling, turned back towards the engaged couple, looking fairly bored.  
"We have figured that Elise is going to be the maid of honor," Lily said, "And Sirius is going to be the best man. My sister, Petunia, and Sandra and Bea are going to be bridesmaids. And then for the men of honor, we'll have Remus, Peter, and Davey Gudgeon."  
"Davey?" Bea scoffed again, "That clown? You're letting him into your wedding?"  
"If he can make it, yes," James said, defending his friend.  
Remus looked from him to Bea, and then back to him. There was going to be a fight. There was no way that James Potter could conquer these giggly girls. Some of them had liked him, but after the boys had taken Lily away from them, they were out for blood.  
James's blood.  
He sighed, and checked his watch. This was going to be the longest meeting of his life.  
"Can I ask a question really quick?" Bea asked, eyeing James with a look that resembled a vulture.  
"Is this a rhetorical question?" James grumbled, picking at the wooden tabletop.  
Bea's face grew rigid, and she turned to Lily, "How long have you known him?" she asked, as if he wasn't there.  
James glanced up at her, his brow furrowed. Sirius and Remus turned their attention to him, and Peter's eyes were darting to the menus. All he wanted was to eat. That's the only reason he had really come. Free meal. Why couldn't they order now?  
"Well," Lily said, trying to keep the peace, "We've known each other since first year."  
"Yeah, we know that," Bea said.  
"Bea, don't . . ." Sandra started, but Bea waved her hand to shush her.  
"But how long have you two been going out," she said, "Not even a year."  
"Does it really matter?" James retorted.  
"Yes, it does," Bea said, glaring, "You are eighteen. You have no steady job. And we all know your reputation from Hogwarts."  
"And what reputation would that be?" Sirius asked, stepping in to protect James.  
"You two were the worst students that Hogwarts has ever seen," Bea snapped, "Pulling pranks every Halloween, getting Peeves to terrorize Darryl . . ."  
"What?" Peter squeaked.  
"Look," Sirius said, leaning over the table at her, "I don't think you have any say in what Lily does and doesn't do."  
"Don't you look at me like that," she said, her vulture look narrowing, "You don't scare me."  
"Bea, Sirius, please," Lily begged, trying to negotiate a peaceful conversation yet again, "Can we please just talk about the wedding?"  
And then the group of them were into another heated conversation. Remus sighed, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Where was the food?  
  
"All right, you paid the bill, right?" Remus asked, as him, along with James and Peter, exited the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius and Lily were lagging behind.  
James checked his pockets, "Yeah, I did."  
"What is Sirius doing?" Peter asked, turning around to peer through the dark doorway.  
"Taking his bloody time," James grumbled, "I want to get out of here. I want to get back home. I don't know how I'm going to stand those three for the next six months."  
"They're Lily's friends," Remus said, adjusting his sling, "We just have to remember that. We may not particularly like them, but she does."  
"Yeah, all right," James sighed, "I know."  
"Good dinner, hey?" Peter said, trying to lighten the conversation, "Better than I thought it would be."  
"Yeah," James said, and then turned back to Remus, "Can you imagine the audacity of that Bea, though? She doesn't even know me! Going on about Peeves and all that. Peeves hated me. I . . ."  
"You're preaching to the choir, Prongs," Remus sighed again, and then went back to looking at Sirius, "I wish those two would hurry."  
"Do you think that?"  
Peter blinked, "Think what?"  
"That we're too young," James said, "Because that seems to be what most people think. Do you two think that?"  
Remus and Peter looked at each other awkwardly, and then shook their heads vigorously, "No, no . . . not at all. Of course not."  
Finally, the three of them saw Lily and Sirius say one last goodbye to the three girls, and then exit the pub. Lily looked tired, and she banged her head against James's shoulders.  
"Really, I apologize," she said, very aggrivated, "They can be little berks sometimes."  
"It's all right," James said, and put his arm around her. They started down the street, the other three lagging behind.  
"She asked me out for a night," Sirius said quietly to Remus, watching the backs of Lily and James as they crossed the street.  
"Huh?" Remus started, "Who?"  
"Warren," Sirius said, smiling his broad smile, "She asked me if I'd like to go to Hogsmeade with her one weekend."  
"An entire weekend?" Peter said, chiming in, "Well, isn't that a bit long?"  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "It is."  
"And you're going?" Remus asked, crossing the street.  
"Probably," he shrugged, "Why not? Get my mind off of this Order business."  
  
"Keep your voice down," Remus scolded, "You never know who's listening." 


	76. Chapter 75: Angels

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Their rooms looked deserted that next Saturday morning. All of the items that they had acquired the past two months were now packed away, and ready to be shipped off for their new houses. Moody was helping them lag their things downstairs and out of the second floor corridor. He grumbled the entire time about too many physical possessions, and how none of them had their priorities in the right order or some other rant such as that. Marlene and Sturgis had shown to help them out in their packing, and Marlene was speaking jovially with Lily about her engagement and wedding.  
"Oh, it's going to be so lovely," Marlene said, "I remember me brother's wedding. The most beautiful sight I've ever seen was his bride, walking down the aisle in her long dress. And you're going to be just as beautiful."  
Lily beamed as she dragged her trunk down the stairs.  
"Are we all ready to go?" James shouted from the bottom of the staircase, "The cars are going to be here any minute!"  
"Remus is still upstairs," Peter offered as he ran past Lily and Marlene.  
"What's keeping him," Sirius said, "We need to go."  
James mussed his hair, and then peered into the second floor corridor, a look of confusion on his face.  
"Prongs?" Sirius asked, coming to his side. James shook his head, and then started up the staircase.  
"I'll be back in a minute," he said, and then flew out of sight.  
"That's bollocks," Sirius sighed, and dragged his trunk to the front door.  
  
James thought that something must have been wrong. Remus would have never been late. Only if something was preoccupying him.  
And sure enough, he found his old friend sitting on his bed, staring out the window to the house next door. In his hands was the bent and twisted metal that had once been a music box.  
"Hey, Moony," he said, knocking on the door, "We're ready to head out, if you're all packed."  
Remus turned around and embarrassingly stuffed the object into his pack, "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."  
His face was solemn again, not letting anyone know what he was thinking. His lips were pursed as he zipped the pack carefully and in control, and then stood to face James. He forced a weak smile onto his face, and then said, "I know it's sort of childish. Keeping it. But somehow it helps me."  
  
James nodded, "Yeah, I know."  
"It gives me a sort of hope," Remus added, his eyes drifting down to the floor, "I don't know why."  
The two of them walked out of the doorway, and at the last minute, Remus turned to look at the vacant room, now empty of any inhabitants.  
"Hey, Lupin?" James started, "Can I ask you a question?"  
"Yeah," Remus said, "What is it?"  
"When you woke up the morning after Voldemort took us," James said, "You said that you saw June in there with you."  
Remus's eyes shifted.  
"Did you?" James said, "Is there . . . did he come back?"  
Suddenly Remus realized what James was truly asking, and he bit his lip.  
"James . . ."  
  
"No, did you see him?" he asked again, "Or was it just some . . . just some hallucination?"  
"Sometimes I see him," Remus said seriously, "In my dreams. That's the only place that we can see them, Prongs. In our dreams."  
James's face fell, and his gaze went back to the vacant room as well, "I don't believe that."  
"You have to," he said, putting his free hand on his friend's shoulder, "They're dead, James."  
It sounded so odd now. They're dead, James. He had said it himself, that his parents were dead. He had gone so long without crying. He had gone so long trying to numb the pain. But still, the thought of possibly someday seeing them again, alive and happy . . .  
After a moment, James nodded in agreement, and gave a sad smile to Remus, "Yeah. They are."  
"And it's not your fault," he added.  
James didn't reply, but just shut the door, and continued down the corridor. He couldn't cry.  
Not in front of Remus.  
Not in front of anyone.  
  
"What do you think, James?"  
James's train of thought was broken, and he darted his eyes to Lily as she held up two long dresses. One of them was periwinkle blue, and the other darker blue.  
"The dark or the light?" she asked, as Elise stepped out of the dressing room.  
"I like the light," Lily continued, "But I want your opinion. Which one do you want?" James blinked, "I really don't care."  
Lily's face fell, and her eye began to twitch again. He hated it when she did that.  
"You don't care?"  
"Well, it's up to you," he said, "I mean, I thought we agreed that you take care of the girls and I'll take care of the guys."  
"And I said that that wasn't very fair," Lily said, hanging the darker dress back on the rack, "I mean, how hard can it be to find four black robes?"  
"I like the light one, Lily," Elise chimed in, coming closer, "It will go with a winter's theme, I think."  
James gave out a deep breath, and scanned the store. They were at a dress shop in Hogsmeade. They had decided to take a trip up there for a Saturday to buy all of Lily's accessories for the wedding. It was fall now, and the leaves were dropping outside. He remembered when him and the three other marauders would roll around in those leaves during their earlier transformations. One time Wormtail had gotten lost in a pile and Padfoot had "accidentally" stepped on him.  
God, life was easier back then, when their worst worry was how much homework they would have on a Friday night.  
He remembered one time, when the leaves had fallen all around his house, his father had taken him out and taught him how to build a gigantic pile with them. He had been only seven, and it seemed like such an ingenious idea to rake them all together and then jump and land in the midst of them. Leaves getting caught in his hair, he had laughed so hard that day. His father had stuffed them down his back, and then messed them into his hair. He had been smiling that moment. Both of them together.  
They had been out there, playing in the yard, until Sprite had announced dinner was ready. And his mother had to finally come out and drag them in to get them to stop. His father had answered to her tutting by throwing a large handful of leaves at her. James could still see her face, in shock and awe as she spit out a mouthful of them. Then she had laughed, and said that she would get revenge.  
Such a simple memory.  
And yet still painful.  
That little boy had turned away from his father. That little boy hadn't been there for him when he had died.  
Dad, if only you could see me now, he thought to himself, I understand what you meant. I wish you knew that.  
"James?" Lily said, coming up from behind him. He looked back to see Elise checking out three beautiful bridesmaid dresses at the counter. The witch behind the register was commenting on how gorgeous they were.  
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, latching onto his arm, and following his gaze to the window.  
"Yeah," he said, shaking himself awake, "Yeah. Didn't get much sleep last night. That's all."  
"Something bothering you?" she said, as he turned to help Elise with the dresses.  
"No, I'm fine," he eyed her as she thanked the witch, and he added, "Hey, Lily?"  
"Yes, James?" she asked, half listening. She grabbed the three dresses and started for the door. Elise followed the couple to the outside sidewalk. Peter and Sirius were waiting for them, holding some chips and snacking while they patiently talked outside of the store.  
"Finally," Sirius groaned as they opened the door, "Moony has been waiting at that store down the road, holding those robes for a good fifteen minutes. Let's get going."  
The five of them, talking excitedly to each other made their way down the street to Monsieur Mallone's Formal Robes.  
"Do you think that we're too young?" James asked as Sirius excitedly talked to Peter and Elise ahead of them.  
"Well," Lily said, "We're not old, if that's what you're asking. But like you said, we love each other. Love has no rules."  
"Yeah," James said, "Yeah, that's right."  
"So just lighten up," she said, and rested her head on his shoulder, "This is your wedding, too."  
"I know," James said, and then mussed his hair again.  
"You're going to go bald, doing that all the time," Lily remarked.  
James gave out a tired sigh, and then shouted, "Hey! Sirius! Lily wanted to put you in a frilly pink robe!"  
"No chance with that one, mate," Sirius laughed as Elise smiled at him, "I had enough of frilly and pink with that bloody room at your house."  
The group burst into laughter. They all had heard the story of Wendy's room at least once from Sirius, who told it like a battle story. His scar was his dislike for any sort of frills at all.  
But James didn't laugh. No one seemed to notice that the reference had made him go very stiff. Lily glanced up at him, and furrowed her brow.  
"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked again.  
"I'm fine," James said, and broke away from her to follow Peter and Elise into the store. He despised Elise, and ignored her as she tried to say something to him.  
Remus was waiting inside, patiently waiting for them to come collect their robes to try on. Sirius laughed at his calm and tranquil expression as he opened the door to walk in.  
"Wait, Sirius," Lily said, taking a hold of his arm, "I'd like to talk to you for a moment."  
Sirius looked at her, in a state of shock, and then slowly shut the door, "What?"  
"Well, you know James better than I do," she said, and then laughed, "That's a funny thought, really."  
"What's wrong?" he asked, and Lily shrugged.  
"He's been different lately," she said, "The smallest things make him go into this dreamy look. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with him?"  
Sirius thought for a moment, and then said, "Well, when I came over to your new house last week, he seemed quiet. I mean, James isn't the quiet type. I don't know, Lily. James is James. He's been through a lot. He's still going through a lot."  
"Has he said anything to you about second thoughts?" she interrogated him.  
He shrugged, "Not really. I mean, he's still talking about you as usual. You're perfect in every way. The girl of his dreams. Same speech he's been giving me for years."  
"So you don't think that he's regretting it?" Lily asked, "I mean, he seems sort of . . . detached from me. We were just leaving the store, and he was staring out the window at nothing at all. He practically jumped when I talked to him."  
Sirius looked through the windowpane at James, who was quietly nodding in agreement with something that Remus had said. Moony and Wormtail had their robes on now, the tailor's magical tools measuring the hems as they stood on stools.  
James wasn't looking at Remus, though. He was staring into space, thinking about something that none of them could see.  
"Remus said something about him and his parents," Sirius piped up, after a moment, "When they were leaving Moody's, James asked him about June or something. He told me because James was acting sort of odd when he said it."  
"He hasn't been sleeping," Lily sighed, "He just sits there and stares out the window. He doesn't say a word."  
Sirius had a mental image of the night the Potters had been found. The rain pounding on London, and the silhouette of James sitting on the bed, staring out at it. He had been so still for such a long time.  
"He's probably fine," Sirius said, "If I know James, he'll bounce right back."  
Lily nodded, biting her lip, "I hate it when he gets like this," she said, "He did it when his sister died, and then when his parents . . ." she trailed off, and then squeezed Sirius's arm, "Moody was right. He is lucky to have you. I hope you know that."  
And then, without another word, she walked into the store, plastering a smile onto her face and joining the rest of the crowd. Sirius stared after her, and then to James.  
Then, with a small smile, he followed Lily to try on his robes.  
  
The new house smelled with that scent that only resides in the walls for about two months, before the new occupants make their own smells to replace them. The boxes that had carried all of Lily's things from her house, and the possessions that James had taken from his old home stood like soldiers in the corridor. They had been empty for weeks, but James hadn't had the energy to get rid of them. So there they sat; almost tripping anyone whom dared to walk down the hall. It had been a hard day, shopping for ten hours straight. At least all of the dresses and robes were chosen, and they finally had a wedding dress. It was white, with a beautiful neck that crawled under Lily's chin. Lace for the hem, with flowing sleeves that looked like angels. Lily looked like an angel when she was trying it on.  
Angels.  
He wondered if they were angels.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Lily asked, rolling over in her bed. James was again sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the stars. He had been sitting there all night.  
"No, I'm fine," he said.  
"You keep saying that, but you're not," she said, sitting up, "You need to tell me, James. I hate seeing you like this."  
"I said I'm fine," he repeated.  
"You can keep saying that, but it's not going to bring them back," she argued, "I know you miss them, James. And you should. I would be more worried if you didn't."  
James didn't say anything. Lily groaned, and stood up. Stretching, she walked to him, and placed her hands on his shoulders.  
"I wish you could have met them," he suddenly said, and Lily smiled sadly.  
"I do, too," she said, "They sound like great people."  
"I showed them a picture of you once," James said, not looking away from the window, "My mum said how beautiful you were. She said you looked like a blossoming flower."  
"She seemed like a nice woman," Lily commented.  
"She was," James said, "The first time that Sirius was to come live with us, she bought him all of these presents for Christmas. I asked her about it later, and she said that she thought that if I was his friend, and if we all showed him what true love was . . . and what a family was . . . he might not turn out to be like them. She said that I was helping him. She wanted to help him, too. She loved him like a son."  
"Well, she was right, James," Lily said, sitting down behind him, her hands massaging his tense shoulders, "You did save him. And you should feel good about that. You . . ."  
"When Remus said that . . . that thing about June? I thought for one split second that maybe there was a way to bring them back," James continued, "And for that one second, that one moment in my life, I was happy again. God, I know it was stupid, because I knew perfectly well that there was no possible way that June was there with him. But I thought that maybe . . ." he shook his head, "I just wished that they could see me now."  
"But they can," Lily said, placing her hand under his chin and turning his face to look into hers, "They're watching you right now, and they're very proud of you. And they wouldn't want you to be unhappy."  
James forced a smile onto his face, and then leaned back in Lily's lap, "Yeah, I know."  
"You are a very brave man, James," Lily said, running her fingers through his hair, "And you deserve to be scared. I'm scared, too."  
"I never want to leave my children like they left me," James said.  
"Who says we're going to have children?" Lily laughed, and James's smile widened.  
"Well, I always thought that we would," he said, "A boy."  
"A boy, huh?" Lily said, taking his hand. It felt so good to see him smile again, "Why not a girl?"  
"Well, a girl would be fine," James shrugged, "Whichever one."  
"Isabella Potter," Lily said, "I named all of my dolls Isabella when I was younger. I've always wanted a daughter called that."  
"I will not have my offspring named Isabella," James argued, looking up into her face, "Never."  
"Oh, and what would you call her?"  
"I don't know," James thought, "How about just Lily?"  
"Original," Lily smirked, "That would be a fun experience in the mornings, wouldn't it?"  
They shared a laugh, and then looked back out to the starlight. It was so beautiful. Just like the night that they had kissed on top of the Astronomy Tower, and the proposal . . .  
"What if it was a boy?" Lily asked, breaking his thought.  
"I've thought about that," James said, "And I came up with a name."  
"What?" she asked.  
"Eugene," James smiled mischievously, nodding his head, "Yes, Eugene Potter."  
"Eugene?" Lily laughed, "Sounds like someone that you would have hexed."  
They laughed again, and then James said solemnly, "No, I really have been thinking about it."  
Lily placed her hands on his chest, and leaned against the wall, "And what did you come up with?"  
"There was a man that I knew once," James said, his eyes drifting into the dazed look again, "He was the bravest person that I have ever known. He died for his family, and for what was right. I never got to tell him that. But ever since that night at Dolohov's I think I do."  
"And what was that man's name?" Lily asked, following his gaze.  
James smiled to himself, "Harry. Harry Potter." 


	77. Chapter 76: Giants and Houses

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Frank called a meeting later that month. He said it was very urgent and all members needed to attend. James and Lily had been eating dinner when the letter had come, in a code that none of them could read until they realized that they had to say the name of Headquarters for the words to straighten themselves out.  
It warned them not to use Floo Powder, Portkeys, or any other sort of wizarding transportation to that exact address. So Lily prepared a Portkey to take them one block away from Moody's house, and then they would walk the remaining distance.  
It was dark when they reached the outside of Headquarters. The trash bins were evilly staring them down, just waiting to be put off. Moody must have told them not to attack any members, so they silently let the couple pass them unharmed.  
Inside the house, everyone was settled in their seats in the living room, chatting away. Marlene was telling Emmeliene about the wonderful day she had had in Dublin a few weeks ago, and Emmeliene was putting in a word about how she always wanted to go to Dublin, but never found the time.  
Dorcas Meadows, the darker witch that counted how many Death Eaters she had killed, was silently sitting by herself, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive and tell them what exactly was going on. She looked ready to attack the first stranger in a black cloak that she saw, and her eyes sparkled as she saw Sirius Black enter from behind James and Lily.  
"Hey, Prongs," Sirius said, patting him on the shoulder. James spun around, and smiled. Good, he was smiling again.  
"Hey, Padfoot," he replied, and then looked out the window to the outside, "You bring the motorbike?"  
"Yeah," Sirius beamed, "It's my pride and joy. What else would I come on?"  
James laughed, and the three of them took their seats in the back. They didn't see Remus or Peter anywhere.  
But sure enough, the two of them came running in, Remus removing a beaten scarf from around his face. His hair was getting longer, and it fell in his face as he tried to push it back. A small smile crawled onto his expression as he saw his three friends, and beckoned Peter over to them.  
"How are you three?" he said, "Have a nice weekend?"  
Sirius snorted, "Not so much. Can't find a damn job anywhere. Since when was being an adult so hard?"  
"Since the beginning of time," Remus said wryly, "And it isn't any better for me, mind you."  
"Do they actually ask about your problem?" Peter said, sitting down on the other side of him.  
"The Ministry has me in their records. I have to tell them," he pocketed his scarf, "Otherwise I get fined or thrown in Azkaban or some other punishment."  
"All right, everyone," Moody grumbled, stalking into the room, Frank behind him, "Shut up. It's not a family reunion. All eyes over here. Let's focus."  
Slowly the talking diminished, and everyone looked to the two Aurors, walking to the front of the room. Dumbledore was no where to be seen.  
"Where's Albus?" Elphias demanded.  
"Occupied," Moody growled, and left it at that. He then turned on his heel to face the Order members, "We called you here tonight because we need to discuss certain things that our spies have told us."  
"And what would that be?" Sturgis interjected.  
"I would appreciate it if all of you stopped running your mouths and listened to us," Moody snarled, staring down Sturgis, "Now . . . where was I?"  
"The Death Eaters have killed off most of our spies," Frank said, "We haven't been able to persuade any true Death Eaters to work for us, therefore we have no eyes or ears in the enemy lines. We know nothing. Except for one small detail that we acquired from an intercepted owl."  
Moody took out a piece of beaten parchment, and cleared his throat, "We have returned. The offerings were a success. Korpse has agreed to begin an alliance. He is already making the trek."  
"That was damn right irresponsible of them to go writing it out like that," Fabian snorted.  
"Well, where their flaws are, our greatest triumphs lay," Moody grumbled, "We believe that this letter is speaking about an alliance between the giants of Europe and Voldemort."  
An uproar ran through the room, and Dorcas stood, "Why didn't we get to them first?"  
"The giants are coming to England?"  
"Alastor, how could we have let this happen?"  
"Are all of our spies dead?"  
"Yes," Moody said, and the room went quiet. They all stared at him in shock, and then Moody continued, "Yes, they are all dead. We are outnumbered."  
This put a blanket of doubt over the room, and quietly, each one of the Order members looked to each other nervously. But they showed no fear. No, the Order of the Phoenix did not know the meaning of that word.  
"How are we supposed to stop these giants?"  
"We don't," Moody said, "There's nothing that we can do about them. We still need to focus on our main target. Voldemort. If we kill the king, the pawns will also fall."  
"Their armies are growing," Frank added, "But there is only one Voldemort. There will always be one Voldemort. We need to destroy him by all means possible. That is the one thing that we can count on."  
"We need another spy in his regime," Alice said, her bubbly voice suddenly growing very serious, "Isn't there anyone that we can send . . ."  
"It's too dangerous," Emmeliene said, "Can you imagine what would happen if they were caught?"  
"That's the risk that we take every day," Frank said, looking at his wife, "Alice is right. We need to send two new spies into their ranks."  
"I'll go," Benjy Fenwick said, standing up.  
"And I will, too," Edgar Bones said, his thinning hair looking grayer, "I will be honored to give my services to you full time."  
"Fine," Moody said, as if it was every day that two men gave their lives to go spy on Voldemort, "We have two volunteers. Good. We'll talk to you in private after this meeting."  
"The other thing that we needed to address is the growing Muggle killings," Frank said, "Two months ago, we found that they're still using Dolohov's old place to torture their victims. They took Lupin there, and did the same sorts of things to him as they did to June's boy."  
Remus shifted in his seat as eyes turned to look at him curiously.  
"Dolohov is known as an excellent wizard," Moody said, his eyes darkening, "He has a way with werewolves and other sorts such as that. Very persuasive to the little demons inside. He's been known to even pursuade them to kill themselves. And their hosts."  
"And you survived?" Kingsley sounded from one of the front rows.  
"Yes," Remus said quietly, looking down at his hands.  
Elphias looked at him for a second, and then back to Moody, "This was the night that Black went stomping out the door, I'm guessing?"  
"Yes," Moody said, "And because of Mr. Black 'stomping' out the door, we were able to save Lupin, James, and Miss Evans."  
"Suddenly you're singing their praises, Alastor?" Elphias sounded, "I remember when we left you with them, you wanted to kick half of them out of the Order. And now all of a sudden werewolves and Black spawn are as good as us?"  
Sirius's eyes narrowed, and Remus looked dangerously to Elphias.  
"I believe that you have forgotten why the Order was created, Doge," Moody snarled, his swiveling eye coming to rest on the old wizard's face, "Everyone was created equal. Every human being is given the same chances in life. It seems that you are having the same thoughts as Voldemort and his followers."  
"We all have reasons for not being wanted," Frank said, coming from behind Moody, "Even you, Elphias."  
"Blood traitors, squibs, werewolves, half bloods, Muggle-borns," Moody growled, "We're all here. Did you forget that as well?"  
"Now, Alastor, don't be daft," he snorted, "Of course I didn't forget that."  
"They signed the same contract as you did, Elphias," Frank said, "And therefore they will be treated the same."  
Sirius's gaze had gone from Elphias to Moody, who now had his eye on him. They exchanged a glance, and then turned away from each other. Remus was very stiff in his chair as Frank looked to him as well, and then back to the Order.  
"Now," he said, "We will keep in touch. Look out for any word on Dolohov and what Voldemort's planning. We have the name of another Death Eater. Igor Karkaroff. He was also there that night."  
"Any word on Ludo Bagman, yet?" Edgar asked.  
"No, not yet," Alice piped up, "We're still watching him closely."  
They then ended the meeting, and Moody tiredly took his eye out of his socket, and polished it on his cloak. He rubbed his socket, and then made his way to the exit of the room. Sirius stood, and walked to him.  
"Hey, Moody," he said, coming up to him. Moody turned to stare at him, in surprise.  
"Yes, Mr. Black?" he said, "I'm very busy, so if you don't mind . . ."  
  
"Thanks," he said extending his hand. Moody looked at it, gave a wry smile, and took it.  
Then in a quick departure, he mounted the spiraling staircase and walked out of sight.  
Sirius furrowed his brow as he turned to look back at James and Lily, who were talking quietly to Marlene about when the wedding would be. Marlene seemed very happy for someone who was out to revenge her father.  
It sort of unnerved him.  
"I knew that you would make a fine Auror," he whipped around to face the black haired witch with the monotone voice.  
Dorcas Meadows had no sort of expression on her face at all as she extended her hand to Sirius, and said, "A fine Auror, indeed. I'll trust anyone that Alastor does."  
"Well, thanks," Sirius said, taking Dorcas's hand.  
"My pleasure," she said coldly, and then swept out of the room like an overgrown bat.  
"You heading out?" James asked, pulling Lily away from Marlene.  
"Yeah," Sirius said, still watching the spot that Dorcas had been standing, "Yeah, I'm going. Don't want to stay here longer than I have to."  
James nodded in agreement, and then turned for the entrance hall.  
"Hey James?" Sirius started, and James turned around, "So you're okay, right?"  
He nodded again, and then squeezed Lily's shoulders, "I'm fine."  
Sirius returned the nod, and then shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn't really want to leave yet, contrary to what he had told them. He felt familiar with this place. The flat that he had purchased after being booted out of the Muggle one was too secure. It was far away from any sort of regular life, and it put a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't stand living by himself without any of his friends there.  
He felt wanted here. He wanted to stay here. 


	78. Chapter 77: Night of a Hundred Skulls

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: Again, this is rated PG-13. You know the drill.)  
  
The flat was as quiet as it always was when he returned to it. He turned on the lights, and set his motorbike keys on the kitchen counter as he made his way into the bedroom. He missed his old flat. He missed the guys's smiling faces.  
He needed a cat.  
Maybe that would lighten this dead place up a bit.  
Or maybe a dog.  
No, a cat.  
Throwing his shirt off, Sirius fell into bed with an outtake of air. He was tired and hungry, due to the fact that his Frigidaire was fully empty. Uncle Alphard's legacy money was slowly draining, and he was facing being broke if he couldn't find a job quickly.  
In the past week, he had tried three different places. A small pub, the Ministry's security branch, and of course, Flourish and Blotts as a bookkeeper.  
God, a bookkeeper.  
What in God's name was Sirius Black doing applying for a job as a bookkeeper?  
He had had such big dreams a few years ago. He was going to be the greatest Auror ever. He was going to rid the world of evil and save innocent lives.  
Now he was broke with a flat that didn't even belong to him and a life that he didn't own.  
It seemed so much easier when they were in school, laughing in the dormitory about their latest adventure, writing out the Marauder's Map and basking in their own glory.  
He could see them now, all sitting around the room on their beds, talking about Peeves and the bubble gum. Remus had been smiling, and he wasn't afraid to show his thoughts. He was laughing wholeheartedly as James described the whole incident to him.  
James. He had had parents. He had a family that loved him, and he was going to have the greatest Christmas with them in a few months.  
Peter was holding his rat; stroking it and smiling as he listened to James and Sirius tell how they had gotten caught.  
Sirius had been so young.  
Had he been eleven at one time? It seemed impossible that he had ever had a childhood. It had passed by so quickly.  
"Mr. Black!"  
A knock at the door.  
Sirius opened his eyes, and checked the clock on the wall. He had fallen asleep. It was two in the morning. He yawned, and threw his shirt back on.  
Rubbing his eyes, he walked out of the bedroom and to the door. He opened it to a frantic Alice Longbottom, who had lost all of her bubbly personality. Her blonde hair was wild, and she ran in, shutting the door behind her.  
"Come," she said, taking a hold of his hand and rushing into the living room, "It's urgent. I've been sent to round everyone up. Not safe to alert you any other way. What can we use as a Portkey?"  
"What?" Sirius said sleepily, "What happened?"  
"This all right?" she said, holding up an empty tin of tuna. Sirius shrugged, and she tapped it with her wand, muttering an incantation. Sirius touched it, and soon, he was flying through the air again, Alice right beside him.  
The colors stopped spinning to unveil a street. There were Ministry officials and other Order members, milling around with their wands out and clipboards and recording devices. Daily Prophet journalists stood at the end of the barricaded road, shouting and waving their quills at the officials, trying to catch a quote.  
"Who is the found Death Eater?" a man in a pinstriped suit shouted, "Can we have a name? Is it a male or female?"  
"You have ten seconds to vacate the premises!" a Ministry official threatened, waving his wand at the man.  
"What does Toddles plan to do with all of these Muggle killings?"  
"Five seconds, sir!"  
"What happened?" Sirius asked again, staring at the ghost street. Alice didn't answer, but only pointed to the sky. His eyes looked to the stars, and then grew large.  
Hundreds of Dark Marks, littering the sky so that the ground beneath them were illuminated in green. So many that the stars and the moon weren't even visible from behind their fleet. The skulls glared down at Sirius, daring him to say something. Daring him to defy them.  
"What . . ." and then Sirius saw that the sidewalks weren't as vacated as he believed them to be. Hundreds of bodies were being inspected by the officials, trying to be identified. Each one of them had that shocked, wide-eyed expression on their faces.  
"Black! Longbottom!" Crouch's old cracked voice sounded from their right.  
Alice led Sirius over to a huddle of Order members, including James. Remus, Peter, and Lily were no where in sight. Sirius took his place next to his friend, and looked to Crouch for an explanation. A burning rage was welling up inside of him. Who would have done this to all of these innocent people?  
As if he could read his mind, Crouch placed his hands behind his back, and said in a controlled voice, "A fleet of Death Eaters caused this. The largest Muggle massacre that we have seen yet. Took out the entire street. We believe some of these Muggles may have been wizards. We need to identify the bodies quickly."  
"Are there any Death Eaters left on the scene?" Dorcas Meadows asked from behind Diggle.  
"Yes," Crouch said, "I need you to interrogate him, Meadows. Find out the names of the ones responsible for this. And as for you two," he pointed at James and Sirius, "You can help her. The rest of you, you need to start securing the premises, and checking for any runaways that may have escaped."  
"Where's Frank?" Alice asked, "He was to be here."  
  
"Longbottom's busy at the moment," Crouch snarled, "I am the head of this department, no matter what you lot think. And you are going to take my orders. Now get going."  
Sirius and James followed Dorcas away from the group, and down the street. Sirius stared into the faces of the dead victims, all of them crowded by photographers and officials and Healers, looking for survivors. They were having no luck.  
"Bloody hell," James whispered, "It's getting worse."  
Sirius stopped, and looked in horror at the sidewalk. Dorcas continued walking, as if she hadn't even known they had halted. But James turned, and looked at him inquisitively.  
"What is it?" he asked, coming back to his side.  
Sirius looked away, swallowing hard. He gave out a weak laugh, and then held his stomach. He looked like he was going to hurl. His eyes became hollow, and he continued walking after Dorcas. James opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to.  
Slowly, he turned back to where Sirius was looking. And for a moment, time stopped. His face fell, as he stared down on the face that was still beautifully caked in makeup. Still so alive, and yet so cold and dead.  
"Oh my God," James whispered to himself, and he swore the ground fell from underneath him. The orange streetlight mixed with the hazy green of above illuminated her face as it was contorted into an eternal scream.  
Elise Warren, maid of honor to Lily, was lying next to a newspaper stand, her wide eyes staring, haunted, at the night sky. Her black hair fell onto the sidewalk, and she looked like she did when he last saw her in Hogsmeade.  
She was dead.  
"I'm not telling you anything!"  
James shot out of his stare, and raised his eyes to look at Dorcas and Sirius, both pointing their wands dangerously at a man cloaked in black and holding a white mask. The Death Eater.  
"I WON'T TELL YOU!" he laughed to himself, and Sirius grabbed his collar and yanked him close to his own face.  
"YOU SHUT UP!" Sirius shouted, maddened, "YOU PIECE OF GARBAGE! YOU TELL US NOW! WHO DID THIS!"  
The man just laughed, and Dorcas raised her wand closer to his neck, "You will give us your name, your colleagues names, and the location of the person who sent you here. Now."  
"You fools," the man laughed, "You fools think that you can win! You fools believe that you can defeat my Lord? You are wrong!"  
Sirius punched the man in the face, and he went falling to the pavement, holding his face. He was still laughing.  
"WHO DID THIS!" Sirius demanded.  
"The Dark Lord knows all," the man chortled, "The Dark Lord knows everything. He will succeed. He will kill you all. He will kill every one of you filthy blood traitors!"  
Sirius kicked him, and Dorcas pushed Sirius back.  
"We do not know enough from him," she scolded, "We need to patiently cooperate with him."  
"Listen to your teacher, boy," the man guffawed from the ground, and Sirius kicked him again.  
"Sirius," James started, coming from behind him. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and Sirius spun around, his eyes black and darkened. He looked wild, maddened . . .  
"Sirius, maybe we should go," he said, trying to pull him away.  
"The Dark Lord will blacken the world with his shadow," the Death Eater laughed, pointing his own wand at his chest, "Avada Kedavra."  
A flash of green light exploded in front of their eyes, and soon it subsided again. James and Sirius stood paralyzed behind Dorcas as she cursed the dead body of the man. The Death Eater now had joined his victims on the cold sidewalk, his eyes wide. Yet his face was not one of shock or screaming, but of pure joy.  
Sirius turned away from the dead body, and stormed away from the scene, back to where the tuna tin was laying on the other side of the street. James, taking one more look at the corpse, followed his friend who looked like he was about to blast everyone out of the street.  
"Sirius, you need to get a hold of your temper," he said, and Sirius didn't answer, "There's nothing that you're doing that helping the situation."  
"Look around, James," Sirius barked, waving his hand around at the dead bodies, "It isn't a game anymore. It's not time to play hero. This is what they're capable of. They're not human."  
"Look, I know Elise . . ."  
  
"Shut up, James," Sirius cut him off and then quickened his step to return to his tuna tin.  
"We're not done here," James shouted at his back.  
"I am," Sirius said from over his shoulder, and then grabbed the Portkey, and disappeared. James groaned as he saw Crouch running towards the vanished tin and man, and then gave out a curse.  
"Potter! What in the bloody hell does Black think he's doing?" Crouch barked, now starting in on him, "He did not have authority to leave this site! He was under strict orders . . ."  
"The Death Eater's dead," James said, as Crouch reached him in a stormcloud, "He killed himself before we could get anything out of him. He's over there with Meadows if you want to see."  
"I asked you a question, Potter," Crouch snapped, his voice becoming stern, "Where did Black go?"  
"Probably back home," James said casually, and then started back for Meadows. He felt a knarly hand grab his arm and yank him back. James glared at Crouch.  
"You're not in school anymore, boy," Crouch snarled, "Now you remind your friend of that. This is a war that we are fighting, and we don't have time for him to go off on a rampage every time that he doesn't find something that we do fitting to his schedule. He gets his act together, or he's out. Do I make myself clear?"  
James glared at him, and then said, "I believe that Meadows would like to speak with you about the body. It's a male, probably in his thirties or forties. Lower, cracking voice. Seemed to have a birthmark on his left arm."  
Crouch gave him one more stare, and then shoved past him to go talk to a few officials that were securing the premises. He didn't even acknowledge Meadows, who was trying to identify the dead man. She didn't seem to be having much luck.  
James looked back at the dead bodies surrounding him. There were so many of them. How were they going to cover this one up?  
Elise Warren's body was still perched by the newsstand, unmoved by the Healers. But she was dead. He could tell. He had seen the eyes of the dead.  
The eyes that were staring forever out in front of them, unmoving, doll-like . . .  
He felt his stomach lurch, and he swallowed. He turned from the bodies, and walked back to the remaining group of the Order.  
Lily was out with Diggle and Sturgis, trying to calm the witnesses into telling their stories of what happened. Peter was securing the premises. He had been there longer than anyone else had, since he had been at Headquarters still when the call was given. He hadn't seen Remus anywhere. Maybe it was another transformation tonight.  
He couldn't see the moon. The Dark Marks were covering the night sky still. An army of skulls and snakes.  
Is this what their world would look like in ten years? Is this the world that his children would grow up into?  
Not if he could help it. 


	79. Chapter 78: Frank's Message

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Sirius didn't answer any of James's owls for a few days. When he finally did answer, he blamed it on job interviews.  
"Tons of them," he had written, "And I finally landed a job working as an assistant for the Ministry Aurors. I think that Moody or Dumbledore had something to do with it, but a job's a job."  
Nothing else was ever said about Elise. Well, Lily had attended her funeral, along with most of her bridesmaids and James. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, Elise had. And now she had suffered for it.  
Lily had cried to herself at night, asking James to talk to her and comfort her. James had been there for her, but he could hardly feel any pain. She hadn't been his friend. He had hardly known him, like the other boys. But James knew that Lily was feeling as bad as he would be feeling if Remus or Peter died. Miserable.  
  
When they all got together for Christmas, weeks later, and it was Sirius's turn to say grace, he only hinted that there had ever been a girl named Elise Warren that he had seen dead and cold on the ground.  
"Father," Sirius had said, folding his hands and closing his eyes, "I know I never talk to you, unless James is sitting here telling me that I have to in order to get any food."  
  
The five of them had laughed, and then Sirius had continued.  
"But I guess I just wanted to thank you . . . if you exist," he added, "For getting us all this far. I know that we've lost some . . . some people . . . along the way, but we're all here. And that's what important. That there are still five of us around this table, together and in one piece."  
Remus opened one of his eyes to glance at Sirius. This wasn't like him at all. Was he all right?  
"Thank you for my family," Sirius sighed, forgetting that there was anyone else at the table, "For my real family. I guess that's it. Oh, yeah, and bless James and Morgana in their wedding. And take mercy on their kids, because they're going to need your mercy having those two as parents. Amen."  
"Amen," they all repeated, and then Lily took her knife and cut the turkey, "All right, who wants white and who wants dark?"  
  
"So you're going to the Evans's tomorrow?" Remus asked, taking a bite of his turkey. Lily nodded.  
"My mum and dad thought it would be fun to spend Christmas Day with James and me," she said, "Try to make him feel like part of the family."  
  
"Good luck, Prongs," Sirius laughed, taking a drink from his glass, "That will be interesting."  
"Your sister hates me," James muttered as he cut his turkey.  
"She does not hate you," Lily argued, "She is just a little more narrow minded than my parents, that's all."  
"She hates me," he repeated, and took a bite of his food.  
Lily coughed, and then took her fork, "She doesn't hate you," she said again.  
  
"I hate him!" Petunia shouted, slamming the door on Mrs. Evans's face, "I hate them both! Why did you tell them they could come?"  
"Well, honey," Mrs. Evans said, reaching for the knob. It was locked, "Because he's going to be your brother-in-law. And she's your sister. She's a part of this family as much as you are. And we have to support her in what she does. She loves him very much, Petunia dear, and can you really blame her? He is rather attractive . . ."  
"Mother!" Petunia's disgusted voice came from behind the door, "Please!"  
"Well, Petunia dear, he's better off than your boyfriend," she said truthfully in her faded accent, "I love Vernon as much as you do, dear, but he is a bit portly around the middle . . ."  
"Mother, I do not think that this is the time or place to talk about Vernon!" Petunia retorted, "And at least he doesn't go pulling rabbits out of hats!"  
"Now, Petunia, dear," Mrs. Evans said, "We don't know if he has ever done that. Why don't you just come out and give them a chance? Try to get to know your new brother-in-law? Try to get to know your sister?"  
"NO!" Petunia shouted, and then not another word came from behind the door.  
Mrs. Evans sighed, and then walked to the top of the stairs, where Lily and James were patiently waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She ushered for Lily to join her on the second floor, and said, "What was that handy incantation that you used to unlock your father's car door that one time?"  
"Alohomora?" she offered.  
"Yes," Mrs. Evans pointed down the hall to Petunia's door, "Go use that on her door. She won't come out."  
James waited as Lily disappeared behind the wall, and Mrs. Evans quickly made her way down the stairs. She gave a fake smile to James, and he saw that she was blushing red.  
"Ah, James, truly sorry," Mrs. Evans said in a tussle as she made her way back to the kitchen, "Petunia can act a little immature sometimes. A little jealous of Lily, I believe. I mean, have you seen a picture of the beau she has? Ghastly fellow, really. Don't tell her that, she'll deny it. But he is rather on the large side. Care to see a picture? I carry one in my purse. The girls at quilting club get rather an enjoyment out of it. Thinks that they look like Jack Sprat and his wife. Except I believe it must be the other way around, because Jack Sprat was thin and his wife was the portly one . . . yes, I believe that's how it went."  
  
Soon they were sitting quietly around the table, the most beautiful feast that James had ever seen sitting out in front of them. It must have been catered. There was no possible way that Mrs. Evans could have cooked it. Maybe Mr. Evans had prepared it . . .  
And then he realized that Mr. Evans was the sort of man that his wife wouldn't let him anywhere near the kitchen.  
"James," Mrs. Evans asked from across the table, "How is your new house?"  
"Fine," James said, "It's fine. We still have a bit of unpacking to do, but," he looked across the table to where Petunia was glaring at him. He stopped, and narrowed his eyes. Why was she doing that?  
He looked back to Mrs. Evans, and forced a weak smile on his face, "But we're pretty much moved in."  
"Lily said that it was blue," she said, "What luck. That's your favorite color, isn't it, Lily?"  
Lily nodded, "That's what the color of the bridesmaid dresses are."  
Petunia's face grew even sourer. She gritted her teeth, and impaled her goose with the same force that she would have liked to impale James with. James stared at the goose, and then back at Lily in a "I told you so" stare.  
"Stop it," she hissed, and kicked him from under the table.  
He massaged his leg as Petunia took a large bite out of her goose. He lost his appetite.  
"How's work going for you, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked, and Lily put her fork down.  
"Well," she said, "With James's inheritance, we really don't have to work."  
Mr. Evans looked up from his food, and eyed her; "You're a housewife?"  
"No," James said quickly, remembering their conversation, "Of course not. I'm not working either. We just decided that it would be best if we just . . ."  
  
"So you're not a bobby anymore?" Mr. Evans interrupted him.  
"I am," James said, "But . . ."  
"I say that they're liars," Petunia spat, his lip curling, "I don't think that he ever did have a job."  
  
"Petunia . . ." Mrs. Evans scolded, "Don't you have any manners whatsoever?"  
A rustling came from the living room, and James looked up and out of the entranceway.  
"Potter! Evans!" a voice hissed from the hearth out of sight. James sighed.  
"No, it's fine," James said, putting his fork down, "I have to excuse myself for a moment."  
They hadn't heard the voice, since they had been too busy arguing with each other, and they looked at him as he grabbed Lily's hand, and ran into the living room at a jog. His Muggle sweater was bunched up in the back, and Lily quickly straightened it out as they hurried to the hearth. Upon seeing this, Petunia snorted.  
"Frank!" James exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of the fireplace. Frank's floating head could be seen in the flames, looking very worn and tired.  
"James," he said, sighing, "Urgent news. Moody wanted you to be aware of it. The entire Ministry is up on ends about this one."  
"What is it?" he asked, and Lily nodded.  
"Well, they caught a Death Eater that was responsible for your parent's death," he said, "His name is Williams. Jack Williams. He's an English gent that was along with Karkaroff and Voldemort when they killed the three of them."  
"Did he get a trial date set yet?" Lily asked.  
"No trial," Frank said, "Crouch is running out of patience with them. He went straight to Azkaban this evening. No questions asked. He made his one last request, and it's to see you."  
  
"James?" Lily exclaimed, standing up, "Why would he want to see James?"  
"I don't want to see him," James said sternly.  
  
"I understand that you don't," Frank said, agreeing with him, "And we wouldn't make you unless it was very important. We need you to get information out of him. Ask him questions. Find out how many exactly were there that night. Names of other Death Eaters. What Voldemort is up to next."  
"So make some Veritaserum and feed it to him," James said.  
"It isn't that simple," Frank said, "They're going to give him the kiss tonight. We don't have time to make Veritaserum. It seems as if he's done more than just kill your parents. He was also responsible for a hand load of other deaths, along with other things. Crouch wants to make an example out of him for the other Death Eaters. His patience is slowly draining. We need you to talk to him."  
"Today?" James exclaimed, "Frank, it's Christmas!"  
"I know," Frank said, "But this is important, James. You need to come with me now."  
"Don't worry," Lily said, "I'll hold off my parents. Just go. And get back here quickly, all right?"  
James nodded, kissed her goodbye, and headed closer to the hearth.  
Petunia peeked around the corner, and she almost screamed as she saw James disappear into the fireplace. Frank heard her gasp, and shot a look to her.  
"Well, I better be going then," he said quickly, and then disappeared from the hearth.  
Lily turned around, and smiled nervously at Petunia, "Hello."  
Petunia didn't say a word, but looked around the room, to see if maybe one of the neighbors or one of her friends had been peeking through the window.  
"You're going to be the ruin for this family," she hissed tersely as the two girls stepped back into the dining room, "What would they think? Seeing boys evaporate in fireplaces?" 


	80. Chapter 79: Jack Williams

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note for readers under 13: Again, it's PG-13. Don't worry. It'll lighten up soon . . . Someone's getting married . . .)  
  
James had never been to Azkaban before. He had never wanted to go. He had heard horror stories from his father, when Mr. Potter had to go there for work and take reports on the inmates. His father always came back looking like a ghost, and holding Mrs. Potter and James closely to his chest, crying.  
Dementors were the worst sort of demons imaginable. They looked like grim reapers, with their silvery fingers protruding from their long black robes, and their unseen faces, staring down on their victims. Wanting their souls.  
Frank had decided to accompany him to the watery entrance of the prison. It was flanked by the ghosts of death, all dressed in black, and staring into the heart and mind of the humans that entered the moat underneath the prison.  
It was a small wooden boat, flanked by Azkaban guards, all shaking and forever white, destroyed by their colleagues. Their bony fingers rowed the oars as they crossed under the large island that housed the prison. The prison was black, and was outlined by the sudden flashes of lightning from clouds miles away. They passed into darkness, and James looked at the rocky ceiling above them, the water reflecting its ripples on the stalactites. It was eerie, and very quiet as Frank took a shallow breath, and then drew closer to James.  
"When we get up here," he said, "I'll let you off to the main guard. You go in, I'll wait here. Make it quick. I hate this place."  
"It feels like someone died in here," James commented, and Frank nodded.  
"More than one person never gets out of Azkaban alive," he said, "When they get put in this place, they give themselves two months to live. Some of them go crazy. Some of them kill themselves. And others . . ." he shivered, and then said, "And other end up worse."  
The dementors came into view, four of them flocking the one entrance way to the prison above. In the midst of them stood a cold, stone faced man, that was chewing some sort of ice between his gold capped teeth. He gave James a deadly look as the boy mounted the dock, and Frank wished him good luck.  
"Remember, make it quick," he said, "And don't try too hard to take notes. We can use a Pensieve when we get back. Just make sure to get information."  
"All right," James said, his breath coming out in a wispy cloud in front of him. It was so cold.  
"You the Potter boy?" the man with the gold teeth asked, and James nodded. But he couldn't take his eyes off of the dementors. The one to the left had grown closer to him, and was staring right at him from underneath the hood. Staring . . .  
The image of Moony in the room, almost dead . . .  
He blinked, and shook his head. The man laughed, and then said, "Don't you worry about them. They know who's off limits and who's fresh meat. They shouldn't be botherin' you too much now. Toddles's got a pretty good grip on these creatures. Which is sayin' somethin'."  
James felt his knees buckle, and he felt all happiness drain out of him. A cold feeling came over him, and he felt sick. He looked down at his hand. It was shaking.  
He tried to steady it as the two of them made their way up the stone stairs to the prison above, and through a darkened corridor that was glowing with the cob webbed torches floating in mid air. The man with the gold teeth chewed away at his ice, and grabbed one of the torches.  
"Follow me," he instructed, as if James had any other choice. His hand was still shaking as he touched the walls. They were so cold.  
He could hear the violent sea outside, crashing up against the jagged rocks that created the base for this island. A storm was coming.  
Above them, the haunted screams of the prisoners echoed through the stone walls. Hundreds of voices, howling and cursing and pleading with their captors. But the captors never responded.  
James swallowed hard as they stepped out of the stairwell, and onto the main floor of the prison. It was larger now, the corridor. But they were now flanked by hundreds of cells, each one with a barred doorframe, and guarded by a dementor.  
His hand shook harder, and he felt a bead of sweat fall onto his face. The image of Moony was back.  
His parents, laying there on the bed . . .  
He would never be happy again. His lip trembled, and the man with the gold teeth smiled slyly.  
"First time?" he asked.  
James nodded, still eyeing the closest dementor.  
"OH GOD!" a man, not much older than James screamed from his cell. James looked over to see the prisoner, and his eyes grew wide.  
The man was laying on the ground, clawing at his head, kicking his legs out in every direction.  
"GOD! NO! DON'T KILL HER! GOD! NO!"  
"Take mercy, please," a low, raspy voice sounded from the cell next to the young man, as James and his liaison passed it. The woman was rocking herself in the corner, staring maddened out into the air in front of her. Her knees were to her chin, and she hugged them as she mumbled to herself, "Lord who art in Heaven . . ."  
"This is our main floor," the man with gold teeth told James, "Most of these prisoners are harmless, and will be leaving soon enough. They're the lucky ones. It's the ones up a level that you need to feel sorry for. Or be scared of, whichever one."  
"Why?" James said, trying to erase the images that were running through his mind. Frank had given him a chocolate bar, and told him to save it until he couldn't take anymore of it. He was losing his sanity quickly. How could this man in front of him stand it?  
"They're the real dead ones," he said, "Death row, is like it. Either in here for life, or in here for a kiss. Your friend's gonna be getting his kiss tonight, ya know."  
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"  
"Bernard!" a shrill voice came from his left.  
A bony and pale hand grabbed James around the arm, and tugged him to the bars on the door. His face hit the cold steel, and he looked in horror at an older lady, staring hopefully at him.  
"I knew you would come for me! I knew you wouldn't leave me here!"  
A shadow crossed over both of them, and James felt all good thoughts that he had left diminish in a matter of seconds. His mouth dropped open as he stared at the woman, who was also looking very shocked.  
Her face turned into his mother's.  
His mother's wide-eyed expression.  
Laying on the bed . . .  
Next to his father . . .  
Sirius dead.  
Remus dead.  
Lily dead.  
Peter dead.  
Just like Elise . . .  
"Potter!"  
James opened his eyes, and looked up into the face of the guard, still chewing on his ice. He held the torch above him.  
James was flat on the ground, shaking with fear. His teeth chattered as the guard helped him to his feet, and he nervously looked around, all of his nerves on end. The dementor was now closing in on the woman who had gotten out of hand, and she was screaming for Bernard.  
"They calm down after a few days," the guard said, "Don' min' them."  
James thrust his hand into his pocket, and brought out the chocolate bar. He devoured it in two bites, and a small comfort came back to him. He forced a smile onto his face as he and the man continued through the corridor.  
And then they were up another staircase. When they reached the second level, the man extinguished the torch, and left it on the floor as they entered. It was dark, the hall's light a mix of blue and green. A large black arch stood at the end of the hallway, and smaller cells, more spread out, stood in rows on either side of them.  
There weren't as many screams here. They were almost all silent, staring into space, balled up in a corner. Some of them could have been taken as dead if it hadn't been for their steady breathing. Two dementors were positioned at each door, and James felt the chocolate slowly wearing off.  
"Yer fella's going to be in this one," the guard said, taking out his wand, "Make it quick. His name's Jack Williams."  
Jack Williams was one of the prisoners that were screaming. They had only brought him in that morning and James saw him through the thick steel bars as the guard opened the door for him. The man shooed the dementors farther away from the door so James could safely enter, and then shut the bars behind him.  
"Enjoy," he said, and James looked in horror at the man in front of him.  
Williams was his age, he could tell. He looked much older, but he could perfectly well have been in his class last year. Not that he was, but he could have been. How could someone so young be so evil? His blonde hair fell into his face, and his blue eyes were bloodshot as he clawed at his head. He may have been not bad looking, if it hadn't been for the fact that half of his face was scarred terribly. He was standing in the corner, screaming out names and dates and places that he couldn't quite recognize. Maybe they were in a different language . . .  
"Get out of here," the man said outside, shoving the dementors away from the door. The room lightened, and James felt some sort of good feeling come back into his mind. So did Williams.  
The boy stared at James, as if he had just realized he was there, and then he scrambled closer to the wall.  
"You're one of them!" he cried, "You're one of them outside! You've come to kill me! You . . ."  
"Are you Jack Williams?" James asked, trying to keep his voice calm. It wasn't working, though. He had thought that Williams would have been larger, older . . . like Dolohov or Karkaroff.  
"W-who are you?" the boy asked, his eyes like saucers. He looked like a scared little puppy. How could this person have killed his parents? They must have gotten the wrong man . . .  
"I'm James Potter," James said, and then saw a stool sitting in the corner. He took it, and sat. He folded his hands, trying to stop them from shaking. He hadn't succeeded before, and he didn't succeed now, "I work for Albus Dumbledore."  
"Dumbledore?" Williams's face brightened, and he fell to the ground, his hands clasped together, "Oh, thank you! You've come to get me a trial, haven't you? You've come to get me off!"  
"No," James said truthfully, "You wanted to speak with me."  
Jack thought for a moment and then a look of realization came onto his face, "Oh, yes! I did! James Potter! I didn't quite catch your name . . . I . . . I wanted to see you before those things killed me off . . . I . . ."  
"I have to make this quick," James said, "If you have something to say, say it now."  
"Well, you are the boy who's parents I killed, right?"  
James's face hardened. So it had been him. And he had wanted to show his face to him? What sort of monster was this?  
"Yes," he glared at him, and Williams retreated back into his corner.  
"I w-wanted to apologize . . ."  
"Apologize?" James retorted, "APOLOGIZE?"  
Every bit of composure that he had had shifted out of sight, and if James hadn't known that he was in Azkaban, and they could very well keep him there, he would have reached out and killed this Williams man.  
"I . . . I remember that day," Williams continued on, calming down a bit, but still wincing as if he thought James was going to lash out and hit him, "I . . . I remember every single day. Clear as rain. But . . . but I wasn't there, you see . . . they had me . . . they had me under their curse . . ."  
James's face softened, and he felt the hate subside, "What?"  
"The Imperius Curse," Williams said, "I . . . I felt myself say the words, kill them . . . but . . . I . . . I didn't do it. I mean, I did it, but . . ."  
The night at Dolohov's came back. James sneering at Remus, saying those horrible things. And there hadn't been anything that he could have done about it. Williams had been the same way. The murderer of his parents had been the same way.  
But how could that be? The murderer was supposed to be like Karkaroff and Voldemort . . . not a boy . . . not . . . not him.  
James looked in confusion at Williams, and Williams looked like he was going to cry with happiness, "You believe me, don't you? You believe me! I have my own mum and dad . . . and I don't know what would happen if they were killed the way that yours were . . ."  
"Shut up," James said coldly, and Williams recoiled.  
"I'll tell you anything that you need to know," he offered, his voice becoming stronger, "I know that's why you came here. I'll give you names. All the names you need. I'll tell you about the giants, the new recruits, the Muggle killings . . ."  
"Recruits?" James said, "You know who the recruits are?"  
"Yes! All of them!" Jack jumped, "I know every one of them! They're powerful, they are. And they're getting younger and younger. The Dark Lord believes that the future resides in our generation's heart. Even younger. He is entrusting in children, James Potter. He isn't recruiting full grown men and women anymore. He has his share of them in the ranks, but he wants fresh meat. I would know."  
"Who are they?" James asked.  
Jack came closer and then said in a whispering voice, "There is a thirteen year old girl and two boys that are not much older who he's taken out of school. Took under his wing, sort of. Don't know the girl's name. Never heard it. But the boy's name is Rodolphus. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. The girl's the youngest. Not in the ranks yet, but they will be. The nastiest children you ever met. And then there are others. But those hit me hard, because he's never taken anyone that young before. They're getting younger and younger. And he's started to try to recruit children under the age of sixteen, so he'll have a whole new army when the time comes. Even children from Hogwarts."  
James felt his mouth drop open and then shut it.  
"It's our war now, James Potter," Williams said, all fear gone from his voice. The dementor's presence had worn off, "Remember that. It's our war now."  
  
"Think you could have stayed a little longer?" Frank grumbled, as James weakly got back into the boat. He had just left an innocent man to suffer. But he couldn't do anything.  
"Hopefully see you later, Longbottom," the man with the gold teeth said, before disappearing back into the shadows of the stairwell. Frank made a disgusted face, and then ordered the deadened rowers to start their way out.  
The night sky hit them as their boat rocked with the choppy waters. It was a breath of fresh air, and the foreboding feeling left James, and he could smile again.  
But the stench of Azkaban still resided in his nostrils.  
  
Lily had been sitting patiently with her family, waiting for James to return. It had been a good full two hours, and now she was starting to get worried. She didn't think it would take this long to quickly rush over and say a few choice words to the prisoner. But she kept her mouth shut, in fear that her parents were having the same thoughts.  
It was nine o' clock on Christmas night that James finally appeared from the fireplace in a pile of ash and smoke, and stood up to face the Evans family, all sitting on the couch, waiting for him to return.  
Mr. Evans and Mrs. Evans were taken by surprise at this trick, and complimented on its dramatics. Petunia just stared him down as he got to his feet, brushing the dust off of his knickers. He didn't reply to anything that the Evans's said to him, and quickly grabbed Lily. His lower lip was trembling, and he rushed up the stairs, and through the hallway.  
"What is it, James?" Lily asked, as James found Lily's room, and shut the door behind them as they entered. James looked shaken, and he took Lily by both of her shoulders and gave her a long kiss. She stared at him as he broke away, and then fell on the bed.  
"James, are you feeling all right?" she whispered, coming to sit next to him.  
And then, he burst into tears. It was the first time that Lily had ever seen him cry. It was the second time in his life that he had ever let anyone see him. She looked taken aback as she put an arm around him, and patted him quietly.  
"Shh," she said, "What happened?"  
"I'm never going back there again," he cried, wiping his brow free from sweat, "It was a nightmare. All I could see was them. And you. And Remus. And Sirius. And Peter. All of you dead. All of you in front of Voldemort . . . And . . . and I couldn't remember anything worth remembering . . . It was horrible . . . Those dementors . . ."  
"Take a breath, all right?" Lily said, "We're all perfectly fine. We're all here, alive. Okay? Look at me, James. It's fine."  
"He was just a kid," James sobbed, "He was as old as me! He said that Voldemort's getting people younger than us to go out and fight . . . God, Lily . . . what happened to our world? One of them's only thirteen . . ."  
  
"Who was just a kid?" Lily asked.  
"Jack Williams," James said, "Jack Williams was just a kid. And now he's . . . now he's . . ."  
"He killed your parents, James."  
"But . . . he was so young! They're all so . . ."  
And then he was off in more tears, unable to talk. Lily didn't feel comfortable seeing him like this. He was scaring her.  
"When you get around those things," he said, trying to pull himself together, "It's like . . . I felt like I would never be happy again. I felt like the world was ending. God, I've never felt like that before. No hope left, and just . . . just pure fear, Lily. Just . . . just pure fear."  
"But you're home now," she said, pushing his hair out of his face, "And we're happy and alive. We're going to be married soon."  
"I saw Elise again," he muttered, and Lily's face lost all color.  
"Come on, James," she said, "Please don't do this. Please. It's Christmas."  
"I love you, Lily," James said, lunging to embrace her. Lily uncomfortably returned his hug, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She rubbed his back as they sat there, trying not to cry again.  
A knock came from the door.  
"Mother wants to know if you two still want your trifle," Petunia's voice came.  
How long had she been standing there?  
From the look on her face, she had been there for a good long time, because her face was as white as Lily's when they opened the door. She was staring at James, who was trying to dry his face off before heading back downstairs.  
With control in his voice, he said, "Sure. We'd love some trifle," and then walked back downstairs to Lily's parents.  
Lily started after him, but Petunia tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around to face her sister.  
"I heard you," she said.  
"I know," Lily said simply.  
"Like he would never be happy again?" Petunia repeated, and then eyed her, "Dementors?"  
"Welcome to our world," she said, putting her hair back into place, and then heading down the corridor.  
"Is this Voldemort like the dementors?" her sister asked as she reached the stairs.  
Lily looked back at her, and then shook her head, "Worse. And he's not just after wizards."  
Petunia didn't say a word, but silently followed her sister back downstairs. Her loathing for James returned as she entered the dining room, and saw him laughing again with Lily.  
She hated them both.  
It was their kind that Voldemort was.  
Freaks of nature. 


	81. Chapter 80: The Wedding

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Thank you: Thanks to Jewels White, Aaron (Nox), and r_pfaith for helping me figure out certain aspects of this scene, including primarily what to do with Elise.)  
  
(Note from the author: Tah-dah! The moment we've all been waiting for . . .)  
  
It was one of those moments in which the world seemed to continue, but one feels as if he is not included. The sun continues to crawl across the sky, and the snow on the ground continues to swirl. The cars drive by, and the stoplights still flash. People still walk down the street, unaware of what is going on other than what is happening to them. Muggles, wizards alike, all mingling in a world that was slowly falling apart.  
This was the scene that James was watching through the small dust- ridden window in his dressing room. He couldn't hear the shouting and excited voices of his four friends, shouting about the last Quidditch game behind him. He couldn't feel the scratchy robe on his body. He was engrossed in this scene in front of him. If he squinted his eyes, he could drone out the windowpane, and pretend that he too was out there, going on with life like a normal eighteen year old boy.  
He was supposed to be playing Quidditch now.  
Now he was getting married.  
What was he thinking when he proposed? Had he died yet? No. Were they all still alive? Yes.  
Had he overreacted? Oh, yes.  
"Sirius," he said quietly, not moving his eyes from the street outside the church.  
"And then Black comes down for the Snitch," Davey shouted as he levitated one of the candelabras for Sirius to catch, "But it looks like Pettigrew's going to make it first!"  
Sirius elbowed Peter in the face, and Peter went flying in a pile of their coats on the floor, as Sirius caught the candelabra in mid air, and gave out a cheer.  
"And Black has got the Snitch!"  
"Sirius," James said, a little louder, and Sirius dropped the candelabra on the floor with a crash.  
"Yeah, Prongs?" Sirius said, stepping over Peter, who was still sprawled out on the floor. Remus sighed, picked up the candelabra, and set it back in its spot on the dresser. He was the only one that was fully dressed in his dress robes. Peter still hadn't changed, and Davey had just arrived in his Quidditch jersey. He was announcing for the Ballycastle Bats (which Sirius thought was very amusing), and had dropped by just after getting off work.  
Sirius had half of his robe hooked in the front, and his biker boots still on. His chain dangled from his pants as he made his way through the mess on the floor. The church had given the girls the real dressing room and the boys the cloakroom. The cloakroom was not only the cloakroom, but it was also the "anything-that-we-don't-need-goes-in-here" room.  
"What's the matter," Sirius said, catching his breath leaning against the windowpane. It was cold and the air felt good after being cooped up all day in the hot church, "You feeling okay? You look sort of peaky."  
"I can't do this," James said quickly.  
"Of course you can," Sirius said, his brow furrowing, "What are you talking about?"  
"We're too young," James said, "We're too young to do this. We . . . do you know how old my parents were when they were married?"  
"Old, I'm guessing," Sirius snorted.  
"Twenty nine," James said, "They didn't marry until they were twenty nine."  
"God," Sirius said, "How old were they when they . . ." James glared, "Sorry," he added quickly, "I shouldn't have said that."  
"It's all right," James said. He had more important things on his mind at the moment.  
"But come on," Sirius said, turning around to fold his arms on the sill, "You're James Potter. She's Lily Evans. You're supposed to get married. It's written out! It's like . . . Prince Charming and Snow White or Cinderella or some other stupid flitty princess," James shot him a look, "Not saying that Lily's a flitty princess," Sirius added, "But you know what I mean. Ever since I was eleven, all I've heard about her is how great she is! Prongs, I'm supposed to be the one with the doubts . . ."  
  
"Sirius, you don't understand," James said, "What if I missed out on something? What if I was so transfixed on that one girl that I missed the one who was really the one? What if Lily's not the one?"  
"Are you taking the Mickey?" Sirius barked, "You've been mad for her since you saw her, you two are so in love that it makes me sick . . . what do you mean that she's not the one?"  
"I can't do this," James said, "I . . . I just can't."  
Sirius sighed, and then pointed to the window, "You wanting to be out there? Away from this?"  
James nodded.  
"Why?"  
"Well," James said, "My life hasn't exactly turned out the way that I thought it would. I thought I'd be this great Quidditch player, on the covers of all the magazines, with everyone I love around me, and a family. But not a family now! It's too early."  
"But instead you've got the life you've got now," Sirius said, "You've got Lily. Do you know what I would give to have someone like Lily? Do you know how lucky you are?"  
  
"Guys, we really need to get dressed," Remus said, separating Davey and Peter who were wrestling on the floor now, "We only have an half an hour."  
  
"Look, James," Sirius said, turning away from him to look at Remus, "I'll be right by you, all right? My motorbike is parked on the side of the church, right outside of the exit. If at any time you feel like you seriously made a mistake, I'll hand you my keys and you can run for it, all right? I'll hold Lily off. Give you enough time to make your escape. Is it a deal?"  
James laughed a nervous laugh, "Funny, very funny."  
Sirius took his keys out of his pockets, and set them on the windowsill. He smiled mischievously as James looked at him in surprise, "Don't scratch the paint, Prongs," he added as he went to Remus.  
"Moony! How do you button this thing?"  
  
They were in a room off to the side. James could feel the motorbike keys jiggling in his cloak pocket. The judge was eyeing him from behind his small spectacles. James knew that his father would have been very disappointed if he had found out that he was having a wizarding wedding with a judge. He had always been expected to have a Catholic wedding. And Lily was Catholic . . . why hadn't they had a Catholic wedding? Why . . .  
"Calm down," Sirius muttered. He looked very spiffing in his robes, and his hair cut. Lily had made him get it cut before the wedding. It was rather short now, and James had to laugh every time he saw it. His friend had gone from having shoulder length hair to the ridiculous ear length cut that Lily had forced him to purchase.  
"I can't calm down," James said, "I'm signing my life away."  
  
"Nothing you haven't done before," he muttered.  
The din of the crowd outside in the large sanctuary filled James's ears. He couldn't do this! He was just a child! He was just James!  
"Hey, remember that night," Sirius said, shifting his weight to his other foot, "When I was over at your house, and you were swearing that you were in love with Lily Evans? I thought you were crazy. But after seeing you two together this past year, I think you two can do anything you put your minds to."  
James gave him a look, and then forced a wry smile onto his face, "Well, coming from the person who calls her Morgana, that means a lot."  
"No problem," he grinned, and then gave him a pat on the back, "Now stop this stupid talk and get out there. Remember, the motorbike is still an option."  
"And I thought you would be the broken one today," James laughed to himself, weakly looking at the door in front of them. Soon he would be walking through it, and then to Lily. And then to his honeymoon. And then to his house. And then to the hospital. And then to the store to pick up diapers and milk. And then to the infant's store to buy a crib and clothing. And then to King's Cross to drop his children off for their first year of school. And then to their Graduation. And then to retirement. And then . . .  
Of course, this was all if Voldemort didn't kill him first.  
"Nah," Sirius said, "The Best Man's never broken up. Just really drunk."  
James gave another laugh, and the judge glanced at Sirius in disgust.  
  
"Come on," the judge said, opening the door, "It's time."  
And James froze. He could still feel the keys in his robes. Just run across the platform and through the side door, and you can be free, James! Just run! Just run!  
"Get going," Sirius said, pushing him forward, "Let's get you married, Prongs."  
  
He couldn't even feel his legs as he followed the judge to the front of the altar. He folded his hands in front of him, and nervously looked out to the audience.  
There were hundreds of them! Their friends from school, the Order members (scattered around and disguised, of course), all of the Evans family. In the front row, where his mother and father should have sat, there were two large bouquets of roses. The most beautiful roses that James had ever seen. A white daisy sat next to the bouquets, and James had to turn away to stop from crying. It was getting so hard these days. It seemed like he was always in danger of crying.  
In the second row sat Frank and Alice, beaming at James. Alice seemed to have a handkerchief that she was dabbing at her eyes. Her bubbly persona had returned, and no one would have ever thought that she was an Auror that had killed men twice the size of her.  
Next to them, sat Mad Eye Moody, his bowler tipped over his large eye. It was only these three that James could make out sitting together. Everyone else was scattered, mingling with Lily's family on the right pews, and others sitting with James's friends from Hogwarts.  
He could see Dumbledore in the very back row, his eyes glistening as he smiled warmly at James. James felt his heart leap. He was here. It was all going to be all right.  
The music struck its first chord, and his eyes snapped to the entrance of the church. The doors opened, and Davey, arm in arm with Sandra, stepped into sight. Davey was beaming with excitement, while Sandra (who was trying to look disgusted with the fact that she was walking with Davey Gudgeon but failing miserably) tried to keep in step with him. The periwinkle blue dresses did look very pretty on the bridesmaids. He could just imagine what the wedding dress would look like.  
Behind Davey, came Peter and Bea (a very unlikely pair). Bea was dragging him along, looking very peeved. Peter looked like he was going to cry out in fear at any moment. He kept twitching as he glanced at his partner, nervously, and James knew that he was scared to death of Bea.  
And finally, James had to smile. From behind the other two pairs, came Remus, arm in arm with Petunia Evans. He was very rigid, his messier brownish grayish hair falling into his face in twisted locks. Lily had always liked his hair, and didn't want him to do anything to it. Sirius had protested, but since when did Lily listen to Sirius?  
Petunia looked very sour, especially with her partner. She did not want to be seen arm in arm with one of "his kind." Oh, how would she have reacted if she knew that he was a werewolf to boot?  
Remus gave an encouraging smile to James, and winked. Then, the bridesmaids and men of honor took their spots behind the respected person. In a diagonal line behind Sirius the men went, and the women found their way behind the empty space where Elise would have stood.  
They had decided to have her there in spirit, as a dedication to her life. It had been Lily's idea, and James agreed with it wholeheartedly. It was the right thing to do.  
Everything was in place. His friends were with him. They were right behind him, as always. He had his boys here. They wouldn't let him do anything stupid . . .  
Sirius cleared his throat, and then nodded to the church door. Everything had gone quiet, as everyone turned in their seats to look at the back of the sanctuary, trying to catch a look of the sight that stood there in the entranceway.  
James's eyes drifted dreamily up to the door and then his heart stopped. It was the moment that he had dreamed about for years. It was that moment that he would remember for the rest of his life. It seemed as if everything had faded from his eyesight except for that one beautiful creature standing in the back.  
This was life. This was living. This was his moment.  
This was a dream.  
She was beautiful in her wedding dress. The white veil covered her face, but he could still make out her emerald green eyes, sparkling magically from behind it. She was smiling brightly, and looking directly at James. A bouquet of flowers was held in her perfect and pale hands. The neck of her wedding dress went the length of her neck, sequined in gems and patterns. The flowing long sleeves of the arms that had made him think of angels' wings now rippled with every step that she took closer and closer to him. She was out of the doorway, and heading towards the front. Her father was arm in arm with her, and the ring bearer and flower girl in front. Her long train was hovering magically above the floor, keeping itself prim and neat. Her hair was down, and gleaming brightly with the candles that filled the church.  
She was so beautiful.  
And yet, James saw this beauty fade in front of his eyes.  
As Lily passed the third row from the back, her angelic figure fattened. Her hair grew gray. Her hips widened, and her chin doubled. Her fine hands wrinkled, and her face from behind the veil sagged. She was old.  
This is what she would turn out to be. The beauty would be gone. The perfect figure and the pale, smooth skin, and her red hair weren't forever. If he lived to be that old, and she lived to be that old . . . she would be old.  
Could he still love her?  
And from this shadow of the future, he saw the same emerald eyes sparkling still from beneath the veil. His heart lightened, and he smiled to himself.  
Yes, he could.  
It wasn't the beauty of her skin that he was in love with. It was the spirit that had saved him from Voldemort, from himself, from the world a countless number of times. It was the spirit of the girl that had defied the Dark Lord by sending up the sparks, by never giving up . . .  
It was the girl that had told him off for bullying other students, for hexing her friends in the hallways . . .  
For telling him that he wouldn't amount to anything.  
It was that spirit that he was in love with.  
He quickly dug into his pockets, and withdrew the motorbike keys. He put them behind his back, and handed them to Sirius.  
"I won't be needing these," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
Lily could feel herself walking closer and closer to the altar, her father locking his arm with her. She could see James staring at her in that dreamy gaze that he got when he was in deep thought. What was he thinking?  
He was so handsome in his robes, and his hair that he had tamed just for her for today. His hand hadn't twitched at all the entire morning to undo the style, and Lily was very proud of him.  
His glowing hazel eyes beamed at her as she took another step closer. It was the moment that all little girls dreamed of, at nights when they were alone in their rooms. Their man in shining armor would appear before their eyes, and they would whisper the words, "I do" to the groom that never existed.  
But now he did exist.  
She remembered the first time that she had seen him. She had fallen in love with him. Not like he had to her, no. She was a lot less mature than that. But it seemed from the moment that she stepped into the boat, that something had changed in her life. Something had altered the life that she was supposed to have, and brought along a new one.  
Those six years when she had yelled at him, pestered him, ignored him . . . those six years when she tried not to let herself fall for him, she had tried to blind herself from what she truly had wanted in her heart. She knew that James Potter was one of those sorts that always had a new girlfriend each term, and he left them without another thought. Well, yes, she had done the same thing, but she had been in control of those relationships. The boys had been fawning for her, not the other way around. She could get rid of them, not the other way around.  
But James was different. He was arrogant. He was higher than her when it came to many things, and she knew that if she ever let herself fall for that boy, then she was just going to get her heart broken. He would throw her out like all of the other pretty girls that he had courted, and she would be left in a mess. She could just see herself in her dormitory, cursing herself for thinking that she could have changed James.  
That she could have altered what he was going to do to her.  
It wasn't until seventh year that finally she saw that he truly wanted to see her. When he had asked her, it wasn't as if he was higher than her. It was as if she was higher than him. She had felt special. She had felt different than all the other girls before her.  
She had liked that feeling.  
Had it only been over a year that they had gone on their first date?  
She looked back at James, and her smile faded. The handsome stature of the eighteen-year-old boy had disappeared, and now the eleven-year-old jerk took his place, in front of his bodyguard, equally as young. Sirius and James smiled back at her, but they weren't the same. They were the arrogant little gits that they had been years ago. Sirius hadn't grown his stubble yet, and he held out his wand, shaking it at Lily.  
"Hey Evans!" she could practically hear James shouting her name now.  
Would she ever forgive him?  
What would her eleven-year-old counterpart say if she had been sitting in the audience?  
"You're marrying HIM?" she heard her tiny, pure voice sound from her mind, "You're marrying James Potter? That ego-trip on a broomstick? That ignorant . . ."  
But she had seen James that night on the Astronomy Tower. She had seen him truthfully wanting to show her his world, and invite her into it. The light of the fireflies still filled her mind, and she knew that James had not been thinking about any other girl at that time. The only one that had ever mattered to him was her. And that's all that mattered to her.  
It was meant to be. This was the moment in which she would give her life to him.  
Her feet touched the stairs to the altar platform, and then she saw herself grow eye level with James. They exchanged one last smile, before the judge spoke.  
"Who gives this bride in marriage?"  
"Her mother and I do," Mr. Evans said, his eyes bright with tears residing there. They were dangerously close to falling down his face. Lily gave him one last hug.  
"I love you, Daddy," she whispered, and he nodded.  
"I know," he said, and then headed for his seat next to a bawling Mrs. Evans.  
And then it was only Lily and James. It was only those two that mattered in the world once again. As they looked into each other's eyes, every doubt was forgotten. Every grudge was put aside. Everything was the way it should be.  
"You may sit," the judge said, and the audience took their seats in a shuffle of papers and dresses, "Today, we are gathered together to witness this marriage of these two beautiful young people. James Potter, and Lily Evans. Does the ring bearer have the rings?"  
The little boy came forward; the two bands set carefully on a blue pillow. The judge took them, and handed them to the bride and groom, "They have chosen to write their own vows. Lily, you may speak now."  
Lily gave her bouquet to Petunia, who was standing behind her, and then took a balled up paper from her hand. She unfolded it, and then took a deep breath. She smiled nervously to James, and then opened her mouth to speak.  
"When the world tells us that it is impossible," she read, "And when the world is falling from underneath us, and we have no where to turn, I feel the safest. For I know that you are there, and you won't let anything happen to me. When that same world tells us that this isn't meant to be, and that we aren't ready for a life of commitment and adulthood, I still feel the safest. Because I know that you will always be there with me, for you are committed to me, and I am committed to you. I swear to you, in this moment when all of the world is watching and filled with doubts, when the entire world is slowly dying, that I will never leave your side. I want to live my life with you, and I want to die with you. I vow to you to always be true, be faithful, and be not only a wife, but a friend and comforter. My heart is all I can give you; it is all that I own. Therefore I give you my all. I give you everything that I have," she said, placing the large ring on James's finger.  
"And James, do you have something you would like to read for Lily," the judge asked, as Lily gave her slip of paper to Petunia, who was already trying to balance the bouquet.  
James stared into Lily's eyes, and she waited for him to bring out his own paper. But he didn't. He took her hands in his, and biting his lip, took his turn to speak directly to her. He had the ring in his hand, and he was toying with it with his fingers.  
"I don't have all of the answers to the world," he said, "I don't know everything about life and marriage and happiness. But I do know what love is. And I do know that when love is real, and when love is in its strongest form, it is the most powerful thing on this earth. It kills, saves lives, heals wounds, and most of all, brings hope. That is what you have done for me, Lily. You have brought me hope. When I look into your eyes, I know that no matter what may happen to me, as long as I can see those eyes staring back at me, then I'll be fine. Somehow I'll make it through. Somehow I'll find a way to survive for you. And that's what I want to feel for the rest of my time here on Earth, however short or long that may be. I want to wake up every morning and see your shining face staring back at me. But I also want to protect you. I want to protect you from anything that may hurt you. I want to be there when you cry to dry your tears. When you feel lonely, I want to give you a kiss. When you are scared, to embrace you. And," he took the ring, and slipped it onto her perfect finger, " . . . and when you are happy, to share a laugh with you. I don't know what's in store for us, but I do know that true love outlasts everything. It outlasts doubt, hate, war, misfortune, and most of all death. I vow to you to always be beside you. Not only in this life, but the next. Because that's when love becomes real. That's when love becomes unchained from anything in this life. I know that when I die, the first thing that I will see will be your eyes. That is how I will know that I made it to Heaven. Because you and I will still be together, forever."  
There was a silence as Lily stared at him, in complete happiness. They exchanged a sad smile, and then they locked their hands together, holding on for dear life.  
Sirius watched the two of them from behind James, and he felt his stomach drop. This was the real thing. This was the genuine article. They were truly in love. Something that he would never feel.  
The vision of Elise came back, and he pushed it out his head.  
He shifted uncomfortably as the judge turned to the couple. This was the moment that they had all been waiting for. The moment that Sirius had secretly been dreading in his heart.  
But he saw their smiling faces. He had heard their words. And he too felt himself grinning truthfully for the first time in days.  
"Do you, James Potter, take this woman, Lily Evans, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" he said.  
"I do," James said solemnly, squeezing her hand. It was done. It was her turn now. And then the pact would be sealed. A pact that would be more important than any others that had followed.  
"And do you, Lily Evans, take this man, James Potter, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"  
Lily's smile brightened, "I do."  
"Then with the power invested in me, I pronounce you man and wife," he turned to James, "You may kiss the bride."  
  
James, with steady hands, took the end of the veil, and lifted it over Lily's head. Her face came in clear now, and it was the brightest that it had ever been. She was so happy.  
Sirius watched as the two of them embraced, sharing a passionate kiss. That's when the world stopped. That's when the people outside continued on without those few on the stage. Not just for the bride and groom, but for the three boys standing behind the groom as well.  
Prongs had died in that kiss. James was a man. James was a husband. He had a family.  
"It is my honor to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. James Potter," the judge announced to the audience, and the church exploded with cries of joy and applause. Even Dumbledore could be seen wiping a tear from his eye, and Frank was beaming from his seat.  
Mad Eye took his cloak and dabbed his face with it. James wanted to laugh, and he would have if he hadn't been overly ecstatic with what had just happened.  
Lily Potter turned to her husband, and kissed him again.  
And this time, James had no doubts. 


	82. Chapter 81: The Reception

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
A glass was tapped from the midst of the crowd that had assembled in the Leaky Cauldron. James and Lily were set at the longest and highest table, feeding each other a bit of their wedding cake that they had just cut. Lily was still dressed in her wedding dress, and she was laughing more than she ever had in her life. James was smiling again, and Sirius, Remus, and Peter watched him from their own table on the ground. It seemed as if they were watching a dead man that would never talk to them again. And yet, Remus didn't feel sad. He actually felt happy for them.  
Sirius was a different story, and he had been sitting quietly at his table, trying not to make eye contact with any three of his friends. He swirled his wine around in his small glass, as he gave out a large sigh. Remus hit him on the shoulder, and said, "You know he's happy."  
  
"I wonder what our weddings are going to be like," Peter said, gazing at James and Lily.  
"Not this big, that's for sure," Remus said, and then turned back to Sirius, "When are you going to make your speech?"  
"Soon," Sirius said, running his hand through his very short hair, "Just give me a few seconds."  
"They grow up so fast, don't they," Peter laughed, and Remus smiled.  
"Yeah," Remus said. Too fast, he thought.  
Siruis took a breath, and then tapped his spoon on his wine glass. The reception was quiet as they all looked to him. All eyes were on him now. It was time for the Best Man to make his own vow.  
He had to support them. He had to smile for them. They were happy. And he knew that James would be happy for him if their roles were switched.  
James was looking right at him, and so was Lily. They wanted him to rise and talk. And so he did, holding his glass in his hands.  
"Well," Sirius said, his voice echoing through the now silent Leaky Cauldron. They were all staring at him, "I'm supposed to make a speech, being the Best Man and all . . . but I'm really not one for speeches. That was always James's department . . ."  
There was a small laugh through the crowd.  
"When I first met you, Evans," Sirius said, as the room went quiet again, "I swore that you were wrong for James. And yes, I was jealous. And yes, I acted like an idiot. But I know James, and now I know you, and I know that you both were made for each other."  
Lily smiled warmly at him, and Sirius cleared his throat and continued.  
"Who would have thought that I would be sitting here, making a toast to that four eyed freak that came running into my compartment that first day of school?" he said, "I know I wouldn't have guessed it. But I'm glad that I can see you on the happiest day of your life. I'm glad I was a part of it."  
He raised his glass to James, and got that mischevious smile again, "You were right, mate. It is like a fairy tale. And we all know what happens at the end of fairy tales. All evil's conqured, everything's set right, and Prince Charming and his girl go riding off in the distance happily ever after. So don't be scared, James. Because you two were written out to live happily ever after. I see the real thing in you two. Something that none of us here in this room is ever going to have for ourselves. You really do love each other."  
James took Lily's hand, and smiled down on his best friend. Sirius smiled back, and then turned to the crowd, his glass still raised, "So, here's a toast to true love, mates. Here's a toast to my brother," he turned, and looked to Lily, "And my sister."  
"Here, here!" the audience roared, clashing their glasses together, and Lily looked to Sirius, in an expression that she had never given him. Not one of loathing, or disgust or annoyance . . . but of surprise. Sirius grinned, and raised his glass to her again with a nod.  
She returned the nod, her smile rising again, and then Sirius took his seat.  
"Touching," Remus said.  
"Don't push it, wolf," Sirius growled as he went back to playing with his food.  
Lily was still staring at him from where she was sitting. He could feel her eyes on him, trying to get him to look at her again. But he wouldn't let himself. He had said what he had said, and there was nothing else about it.  
  
The band was Davey's. They usually only did punk rock music, but Lily and James had picked out a song to be only theirs. Therefore, Davey's rough and tough friends had to learn a tune by the name of "Always There" to play for their wedding. The boys weren't too enthralled with putting their electric guitars away, but they would have done anything for the couple.  
Lily and James took the floor, after the tables had been cleared away, and she placed his hands where they should be, just like at their Graduation Dance. The band began to play their song, and James led as they slowly danced around the wooden floor, staring into each other's eyes.  
  
And in this moment I know that I have found you. In this moment, I know that I have found love.  
  
I will love you Until the moment that I die. But in this moment, We are alive.  
  
I will always be there. In the shadow in the corner. In the clouds in the sky. Always there. Watching over you. Until the moment that I die.  
  
Slowly, the rest of the crowd entered the dancing, and they were surrounded by couples, dancing slowly together. Only one more hour until they would be heading for Paris. Their honeymoon would begin, and they would again be free.  
"Did you memorize your vow?" Lily asked quietly, setting her head on his shoulder.  
"Well, I had one written out," James admitted, "But I got up there, and after hearing yours . . . I sort of made that one up off the top of my head."  
Lily laughed, "And for that it's even more meaningful."  
"God, I was so scared," James said, holding her closer.  
"It's over now," she said, "And we're still here. Happy."  
"Yeah," James said, "Happy."  
"Hey! James!" Sirius shouted from across the hall, "They want to take our pictures now!"  
A short man that must have been related to Lily was standing on a chair, taking a picture of the men of honor and the bridesmaids. He was now ushering the bride, groom, and best man over to take their turn. James grabbed Lily's hand, and they made their way over to where they were clicking pictures.  
"Take your places," the man said, "Bride and groom in front, best man in back. There we go."  
Sirius laughed as Remus and Peter made snide comments behind the man's back. James waved at the camera, and Lily was smiling so broadly.  
The picture snapped, and James turned to Sirius, "Nice speech, mate."  
  
"Ah, it was nothing," he said, "I was going to say something about how I wanted to see Lily's eyes in Heaven, but it wouldn't have sounded the same coming from me."  
"Hey! James! Lily!" Peter shouted, pointing to where Remus was rummaging in his belongings for a large box, "We got you two a present! Thought you may want to see it!"  
"If it's another stupid welcome mat, I'm going to scream," Lily muttered to James, and James gave a chuckle.  
"Now come on," Sirius said, "We know you two better than that. Don't be daft."  
"You can go ahead and open it," James said to Lily, and Lily shrugged.  
"All right."  
She unwrapped the silvery paper that covered the box, and then gave out a gasp.  
"Oh! That's . . . that's . . ."  
Sirius gave out a laugh, and slapped her on the back, "Now come on, don't tell me you haven't always wanted one of those."  
  
"What is it?" James asked, looking closely.  
"It's a fire extinguisher," Lily said, holding it up, and James gave out a laugh. The four boys broke out in a fit, holding their sides, and almost rolling on the floor.  
"What?" Lily asked, looking from Sirius to James, "What's so funny?"  
"Nothing," James said, wiping a tear from his eye, "Nothing at all, dear. Thank you, guys. It's great."  
  
They disappeared into their car outside, and it drove down the street as they waved to the large crowd outside the Leaky Cauldron. Off to Paris for a few days, and then back to continue life.  
Sirius, Remus, and Peter waved as the car drove out of sight, and then stood there, looking at the spot that they had said goodbye to James at.  
"They finally did it," Sirius said, and Remus put an arm around him.  
"We all knew that they would," he said, "At one time or another, it was going to happen. We were bound to grow up."  
"You think they'll make it?" Sirius asked, eyeing him.  
"Of course," Remus said, "Like you said, they have to."  
  
"Yeah," he said, his voice lowering, and then he followed Remus and Peter back inside the Leaky Cauldron to collect their things.  
And the people kept walking. The snow kept swirling. The sun kept creeping across the sky. The cars still sped along the street, and the world was still alive. 


	83. Chapter 82: Another Wedding

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: Again, it's rated PG-13. You know the drill.)  
  
"THEY WENT DOWN THIS WAY!"  
James jumped into the sewers, after Remus and Sirius, and felt his feet hit the watery ground as he ran, his heart beating in time with his step.  
He could see the shadowy figure at the end of the tunnel. If only he could run a little faster! He flew past his two friends, splashing the sewage into their faces.  
"Crucio!" he shouted, pointing his wand at the figure. The figure fell, with a scream, and started to convulse.  
The three boys reached the suspect, and James waved his wand to stop the curse. The man was donned in only a white mask, but that was enough to hide his face. James grabbed his hands, and put them in a full bind. He struggled, showing no fear.  
"Get off of me!" he snarled.  
"You are under arrest for the murder of Walter Gringings," James said, sticking his wand dangerously close to his face, "And for being an accomplice to Voldemort."  
"How dare you use the Dark Lord's name, you blood traitor!" the Death Eater shouted.  
Sirius and Remus both grabbed an arm as James put the Death Eater in a full body bind.  
"You talk, we kill you," James said, still pointing his wand at him, "That's all the rules we've got to play with. You want to test us?"  
"So what are we going to do after we get out of here?" Sirius asked, "Other than taking a shower?"  
"Oh, I don't know," Remus sighed, dragging the Death Eater to the manhole that he had escaped through, "I was thinking we could go get something to eat. What about you, James?"  
"Well, Lily and I have plans," James said, as the Death Eater continued laughing, "We were going out to celebrate our two month anniversary."  
"Didn't you just have an anniversary last week?" Sirius grumbled.  
"Well, yes," James said, "But that was for something else."  
"The Dark Lord will avenge me! The Dark Lord will come for me!"  
"Oh, give it a rest," Sirius barked, "We know. We know."  
They scaled the small ladder to the circular opening above them. Frank's face was leaning over them, looking in surprise.  
"That was fast," he said, as he took the Death Eater off of their hands as they hoisted themselves out of the sewer, "Good job."  
"You two need to learn how to run," James said, trying to dry off his pants, "God, it reaks, doesn't it?"  
"Yes, it does," Remus said grimly, and then tried to air out his cloak, "Let's not drive them into a sewer again, all right?"  
"Hey! Wormtail!" Sirius shouted, and Peter, who was staring at the Death Eater frightfully, jumped and looked to Sirius.  
"Yes?" he asked.  
"Why didn't you run after him?" he demanded, and Peter shrugged.  
"I didn't see where you guys went," he said, "Need to get new glasses."  
"What do you mean you didn't see where we went?" Sirius shouted, coming closer, "We were only screaming at the top of our lungs!"  
"Well, I'm sorry," Peter said, starting to quiver, "I . . . I didn't see . . ."  
"Lay off him, Padfoot," James said, still trying to dry the bottom of his pants, "He's not as quick as us. It's fine. He'll be there next time, right?"  
Peter nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, next time. Really sorry, Sirius. But . . ."  
Sirius turned away from him, and then back to James, "They could have gotten away. We're supposed to be a team."  
"But he didn't get away, did he?" James said, sitting down on the curb, "Now just calm down."  
Sirius sat down next to him, and Lupin stood in front of them, "Now what?" he said, "You think we can leave?"  
"I doubt it," Sirius growled, "We never leave."  
"Have you noticed something different about Wormtail?" Remus asked, as his eyes drifted over to their friend, now trying to explain to Moody why he wasn't there in the sewer along with the other three.  
"No," Sirius said, "He's the same. Slow and stuttering."  
  
James elbowed him, and Sirius rubbed his arm, "Why," he grumbled.  
"Well, I don't know," Remus said, "He hasn't been talking very much to me lately. He's usually a chatterbox around me. I don't know what happened."  
"You think he's all right?" James asked.  
"He was telling me yesterday," Remus said, "When you and Sirius were having a talk with Frank? After we caught that Lolan man? Well, he turned to me, and he said, 'Are you ever scared of what may happen?'"  
"What was he talking about?" James asked.  
"No idea," Remus said, "So I asked him what, and he shrugged and went off to talk to you two and Frank."  
"Just sounds like Peter being Peter," Sirius said, standing up, "He's always been a little off, if you know what I mean."  
"Potter!" Moody's voice came from across the manhole, "Good job, Potter!"  
"Thanks," James shouted back, and then stood up to look straight at Remus, "So, what are you two going to do?"  
Remus shrugged, "No idea. Leaky Cauldron sound all right?"  
"Not again," Sirius sighed, "I don't think I can stand that place again."  
"Let's get out of here," James said, ushering the two boys away from the sight, "I'm exhausted."  
"You know," Remus said, walking in step with Sirius and lowering his voice so only he could hear him, "It's odd. These people that we're fighting . . . we're using the same techniques that they use on us. The three Unforgivables, I mean."  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "But we use them for a good cause. That's where it's different."  
"I don't know," Remus said quietly, "Sometimes it seems like we're all just the same."  
Sirius shot him a look, "What?"  
Remus shrugged, "Nothing. Never mind."  
  
"There's a large line that separates what we're doing, and what they're doing," Sirius said, "They're killing people for the hell of it, and we're trying to save those people's lives."  
Remus didn't answer, but continued walking to their Portkey. Sirius stared after him, very confused.  
  
A knock came on the door. Sirius rolled over in his bed, mumbling to himself. It was still dark outside, and very late. Who in God's name would be knocking on his door?  
"Come in," he muttered, "It's unlocked."  
The door opened, and shut. Footsteps through the kitchen.  
"Sirius? You awake?" Remus's voice came.  
"Either that or I'm talking in my sleep," Sirius yawned, and sat up with as much energy he could muster. The door opened, and Remus was standing there, smiling.  
"I knew I could find you here," he said.  
"At two o' clock in the morning? Where else would I be?" Sirius grumbled, sitting up, but Remus didn't move. He was just looking at him, with that sly smile on his face.  
"What?" Sirius asked.  
"We're all the same you know," he said, and then raised his wand.  
"Avada Kedavra," he said, and a green light shot through Sirius. He felt his head hit the pillow. He was dead. His eyes in a silent scream.  
  
Screaming. He sat up with a jolt, and looked around. Beads of sweat fell from his head, and he felt sick. Remus had . . . Remus . . .  
It had been a dream.  
He took in a deep breath, and then surveyed the room. Nothing. It was dark, and all he could see was the slit of light escaping from underneath the doorframe.  
"Oh, God," he gasped, and then fell back into his bed. He had never been so scared in his entire life.  
It was just a dream.  
He didn't die.  
It was just a dream.  
With a shaking hand, he reached for his glass of water on the bedstand, and took a large drink. God, it had been so real. Remus had been there, holding the wand right at him. Wanting to kill him . . .  
Oh, God.  
He couldn't go back to sleep. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Something that had happened that night at the sewers had been wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something that he had heard or seen had been wrong.  
"You're just getting yourself all worked up," he said to himself, "Remus just spooked you, that's all. He's not a Death Eater. He's not a killer. He's just Remus."  
A knock at the door. Sirius jumped, but then got composure of himself. He was acting stupid. He was acting very stupid. It wasn't Remus.  
"Sirius?"  
It was Remus.  
"What do you want?" he shouted from his room. The front door wasn't that far away. If Remus wanted to hear him, he would hear him.  
"Dumbledore's called a meeting. He wanted me to round the five of us up," he said through the door, "Can you open this door?"  
Sirius paused, and then grabbed his shirt from the back of his chair, "Yeah, sure," he said, "Just give me a minute."  
Throwing on his shirt, he entered the kitchen, and walked silently to the door. This was the part where Moony would kill him. He knew that he was waiting outside, with his wand raised, just poised to attack . . .  
"Sirius?"  
  
"I'm coming," he said, and then opened the door. Remus didn't have his wand pulled out, and he looked just like he always did. No demented smile. No odd voice.  
"What's wrong?" Remus asked.  
"Nothing," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Just a bad dream. That's all. What does he want?"  
Remus shrugged, "But we have to get going. It sounded urgent."  
"Just wait a second," Sirius dodged back into his flat, grabbed his keys and his jacket, and then shut the door behind him.  
  
It was dark that night that they entered Moody's house, covered in their Invisibility Cloaks that they all now had (due to the Order giving one to each member). They entered the door, and shut it behind them. Remus and Sirius shook the snow off of their boots as they made their way from the entrance hall and into the living room. They were expecting the entire Order to be there, but only Peter, Dumbledore, and Moody sat in the chairs. Peter was twiddling his thumbs, trying not to make eye contact with any one of them. Remus gave him an odd look, but then turned to Moody, and asked, "Where's James and Lily?"  
"They're already there," Moody said, "They're waiting for you three."  
"We entrust you and Frank and Alice to take care of our little problem," Dumbledore said, "We have received information from the young man you arrested earlier this evening. There is to be a rally of new recruits and younger members tonight."  
"Where?" Sirius asked, "We've got to get going . . ."  
"It's located somewhere out in the middle of a field, it seems," Moody said, "We've got our Portkey ready. Frank and Alice will explain to you what to do as soon as you get there. Now here . . . touch this."  
Sirius, Peter, and Remus took a hold of an encyclopedia volume, and felt themselves falling forward, through blinding flashing lights. They had done it thousands of times before, and now it was as normal as walking to them.  
Sirius rolled onto the grass. By Frank was his wife, Alice, and then James and Lily, all crouching on the ground, looking over the top of a ditch that they had found themselves in. The night sky was above them, and it was dead silent as the three men took their places next to Lily.  
"Happy anniversary," Sirius grunted as he got onto his stomach.  
"Thanks," Lily whispered back, and then Remus looked to Frank.  
"What exactly are we supposed to be doing?" he asked.  
"There's a rally of about ten of them tonight," Frank said, "Crouch says to kill them. Moody says to arrest them. Take your pick. First we need to hear all of their names, then we can act."  
"We know that most of the members are under the age of twenty. There is one by the name of Sampson that is working as the monitor. He is aged at thirty four," Alice said, "The youngest ones are the most loyal ones. Not old enough to make up their minds about the world, so they let You-Know-Who think for them."  
"Use his name, Alice," Frank hissed.  
"Voldemort, right," Alice said, and then bit her lip.  
"Are they here, yet?" Remus asked.  
"No," James said, "We're still waiting for Voldemort to give them the sign to arrive."  
"Is Voldemort going to be here tonight?"  
"More than likely," Frank sighed, "But he's not our main focus tonight, no matter how much Moody just wants us to go after him and no one else. Crouch would cut all of our funds at the Ministry of we pulled such a thing."  
Then they waited in silence, staring up at the flat landing right in front of them. They had a clear view, but no one could see them from where they lay. Brush and grass disguised them in the darkness as they sat silently, ready to attack.  
And then, out of the darkness, like ghosts walking from the mists of hell, came ten cloaked figures. The tallest one was about the height of Sirius, and the others much shorter. One was even shorter than Peter. They were very young.  
Jack Williams's face ran through James's head as he watched the ten of them circle together, and hold their wands to the center of their group.  
"The Dark Lord will rise," they hissed together, "And cleanse this earth. The Dark Lord shall rise. And we will rise with him."  
And then they lowered their wands, and came to attention. Voldemort was no where in sight. The tallest boy came to the middle, like the Dark Lord had done the night of Christmas a year ago.  
"I am Lucius," the boy said, and the five froze from their place in the ditch. Lucius? He was here?  
"Welcome to our regime," Lucius said from behind his mask, "On behalf of the Dark Lord, I will be here to initiate all of you and wed two of our members in marriage. In these dark times, we must initiate our own traditions. With the two of you, we begin a new chapter in the lives of the War. It is our war. It is our generation that will fight it."  
Frank shifted. Just their luck.  
"Remember," he whispered, "Wait until we have all of their names, and then we attack them."  
They nodded, and then turned back to the group. Lucius was also accompanied by another taller boy. They couldn't tell who it was, because of the mask and the shadows. But James had a pretty good idea of who it was.  
"This is my colleague, Severus," Lucius said, nodding to the boy, "He is also here as a liasion for the Dark Lord."  
"Snape?" Sirius growled, "Snivellus?"  
"He's a Death Eater," James explained.  
"No really," Sirius snorted, "Couldn't tell from the mask and cloak."  
  
"Rodolphus Lestrange," Lucius continued, "And Bellatrix Black, please come forward."  
Bellatrix? Sirius tensed. It was his cousin! It was Bellatrix! That nasty daughter of Aunt Elladora and Uncle Alphard. She was a Death Eater? But she would only be thirteen!  
But sure enough, it was Bellatrix's figure that stepped forward, and took the hands of a boy. They both removed their masks, and Sirius's eyes went wide.  
It was his cousin.  
"With the power that the Dark Lord gives all of us here in this circle tonight," Lucius said, raising his wand, "You are no longer a Black. You are a Lestrange. And you will be bonded to this boy until the day that you die."  
"You will no longer be a Lestrange," Lucius said, turning to him, "You are a Black. And you will be bonded to this girl until the day that you die."  
Rodolphus now took his turn to nod, and then the two of them held out their arms to Severus and Lucius. Each one grabbed one of the children's arms, and held their wands to the forearm. There was a tensing of muscles and a gritting of teeth as the two were struck by a spell, and then Lucius and Severus stepped back.  
The Dark Mark was borne into both of the children's arms, smoldering black. Sirius glared. That witch . . . that . . .  
She had become one of them! Didn't she know that they were evil?  
  
But she was evil herself.  
She was the epitomy of evil.  
"Next, Rabastan Lestrange," Severus said, raising his wand, "You will be next."  
Rabastan moved forward, and gave them his arm in the same manner. Lucius put his wand to the forearm, and Rabastan gave out a moan.  
Soon, the Dark Mark resided on his skin as well.  
"I swear to you," Bellatrix said as Rabastan joined his brother and his brother's new wife back in the circle, "I will kill them. All of them."  
"Including your cousin," Severus asked.  
"Sirius is mine," Bellatrix said, "I swear to you."  
Sirius felt his hand grip into fists, and James and Remus looked over Lily to glance at him. Their friend's eyes were hollow again. His face had grown dark. He looked wild.  
How could she have done such a thing? After all that he worked for, after all that he believed in . . . these little brats were recruiting themselves to kill them.  
She was thirteen.  
They were too young.  
How dare she say that she was going to kill him! How dare she!  
"Sirius!" James exclaimed as Sirius stood up, pulling out his wand.  
"BELLATRIX!" he shouted, running out of the brush and right into their circle. Frank and Alice remained silent, staring at him in disbelief. But James and Remus were on their feet, running after him.  
"SIRIUS . . ."  
"HEY, COUSIN!" Sirius shouted, holding his arms out to make his chest vulnerable, "HERE I AM, BELLATRIX! YOU WANT ME? COME HERE AND KILL ME!"  
"It's the Order," Severus hissed, and grabbed Lucius, "We must go."  
  
"No," Lucius said, "He knew that they were coming. We have planned for this."  
  
James stopped, and narrowed his eyes. They knew?  
"Don't move another step!" a voice came from behind them. Remus and James turned around to face twenty more Death Eaters, two of them holding Lily, Frank, and Alice at wandpoint behind them. They had been hiding behind them, in another ditch. They had been trapped!  
"COME ON, COUSIN!" Sirius shouted hysterically, still moving closer and closer to the group, "YOU TOO PUREBLOOD TO FIGHT? YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST KILL US OFF? KILL MY FRIENDS?"  
  
Bellatrix started to walk towards him, but Rodolphus grabbed her and thrusted her back, "Don't."  
"You broke her heart," Bellatrix hissed in the same voice as his mother, "She's dying, because of you. You killed our family."  
  
"They killed themselves!" Sirius barked, "SHE DIDN'T HAVE A HEART!"  
"We're warning you, Black," Severus said, standing in front of the Lestranges, and raising his wand, "One more move, and we'll blast you away."  
"I'd like to see you try, Snivellus!" Sirius said, throwing his wand down, and running faster through the field and closer and closer to them . . .  
"CRUCIO!"  
Sirius gave out a howl, and fell to the ground, convulsing. He had no control of his body anymore. He was in pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. He couldn't think. He writhed on the ground, but he wouldn't scream. He didn't scream.  
He would never scream for Severus.  
He would never . . .  
Another figure pointed their wand at him, and he felt his heart drop. He was going to die. It was over.  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" another voice came.  
A flash of green light flew over his head, and hit one of the young Death Eaters, square in the chest. They fell to the ground, cold and unmoving.  
"IT WAS THE WEREWOLF!" Bellatrix's voice screeched, "HE KILLED SAMPSON!"  
Sirius couldn't think. Everything was flying around him. He rolled in the dirt. Green flashes. Shouts. Curses . . .  
"Sirius!" James slid onto the ground quickly to his side, and pointed wand to him. The pain stopped, and Sirius shakily looked into the face of his best friend, trying to get control once more.  
"Come on, we have to go!" James shouted, hoisted him onto his feet and supporting him as they flew back through the field, trying to get to the Portkey in time. Frank and Alice were battling five Death Eaters each, and Remus was looking down to Sampson's body, haunted. Lily's ponytail had come undone, and her red hair was flying out in all directions, her emerald eyes glowing green in the darkness. She was now battling two of them, and winning.  
Peter was running for the encyclopedia volume, hiding his face in his hands.  
"J-James . . ." Sirius started.  
"Shut up, Padfoot," James snapped, and shouted to the others, "Come on! Get out of here!"  
Frank and Alice held them off as Lily ran towards James and Sirius, and threw Sirius's free arm over her shoulders. The two of them dragged their friend past the rest of the field, and slid into the ditch.  
"REMUS!" James shouted, and Remus turned from the dead body, his face in shocked horror, and haunted, jumped into the ditch. Sirius could see that Remus was also shaking. But not for the same reasons as he himself was . . .  
"GO ON!" Frank shouted, "WE'LL BE FINE! GET ALBUS! TELL HIM WHAT HAPPENED!"  
"COME ON!" Lily shouted back, "WE'RE NOT LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!"  
"GET GOING!" Alice screamed.  
And with that, the five members clutched the encyclopedia, and felt themselves flying through space and time, far away from the ambush. 


	84. Chapter 83: Scars and Spies

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: Again, it's rated PG-13. You know the drill.)  
  
"They knew!" James shouted as they tried to explain themselves to Dumbledore and Moody, "Somehow they knew that we were coming!"  
"A spy, maybe?" Moody said, eyeing Dumbledore, "Do you believe that they would have found a spy?"  
"It is a possibility," Dumbledore said, "I cannot think of a single person in the Order that would have given into the Dark side, though."  
"We don't have time to talk," Moody said, grabbing his cloak, "We must go. Come on, Albus."  
Sirius, who was still shaking from his chair, stood, but Moody shot a glare to him.  
"Sit down, Black," Moody snarled, "You've already caused enough damage tonight."  
Sirius, hurt, sat down without another argument, and stared at the man that he had grown to revere. The man didn't look back.  
"We'll be back by morning," Moody said, as Dumbledore readied himself to touch the encyclopedia book, "If we aren't, call all of the members, and tell them that Minerva, Kingsley, and McKinnon are in charge now. Understood?"  
"But you're coming back," Lily said, horrified, "You're . . ."  
"There are never certanties to any situation, Mrs. Potter," Dumbledore said, and then Moody touched the book, "Stay here until our arrival."  
And then they were gone.  
Sirius, in his anger, made a cry like a wild animal, and threw a chair across the room. It clattered against the wall, and then dropped to the floor. James looked to him, his eyes wide.  
"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked.  
Sirius, who's face had grown stone cold, raised his eyes dangerously to look at him, and he balled his hands back into fists.  
"That was my cousin," he said, "Bellatrix Black. My cousin."  
There was a silence throughout the room, as everyone turned to stare at Sirius. Sirius never talked about his family anymore. It was just a given that no one said a word about any of the Blacks. But here he was, freely telling them that his cousin had become a Death Eater. And he was smarting inside, they could tell.  
"Well, it is hard when our families get involved," Lily started.  
"I don't give a damn about her!" Sirius barked, "I don't give a damn about any of them! But when they go out and start . . ."  
He gave another cry, and threw another chair across the room. No laughter this time. No chuckles or smiles. Only pure distress.  
"Could you stop that?" Lily said, coming closer, "Get a hold of yourself."  
Sirius didn't answer, and swept out of the room, and flew up the spiraling staircase to the bedrooms upstairs. Lily went to follow him, but James stopped her.  
"Just let him be alone," James said, "That's the best thing to do when he gets like that."  
Remus entered the room, with a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He was sipping it quietly. Everyone waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He only continued walking through the room, past James and Lily, and followed Sirius up the stairs.  
"Moony, I wouldn't do that if I were you . . ." James said.  
But Remus didn't say anything, and continued walking to the upstairs corridor. They heard his footsteps above them walk past Sirius's room, and continue down the hall to his own room. The faint shutting of a door was heard, and then silence again.  
James and Lily took a seat, and looked to Peter, who was wringing his hands together very fast, and shaking.  
"G-God," Peter said, "They almost . . . They . . ."  
"But they didn't," James finished, and gave out a tired sigh, "How did they know?"  
Lily shrugged, "I don't know."  
"Do you really think someone could be a spy?" Peter asked, wringing his hands faster.  
"I wouldn't be surprised," he answered, and Peter gave out a squeak.  
"Well, who do you think . . ."  
  
"I don't know," James said, "It's not any of us, that's for sure. And it couldn't be Moody or Dumbledore."  
"What about Frank or Alice?" Lily asked.  
"No," James said, "They would never join Voldemort. They've already gone face to face with him twice, and they almost killed him. And think of how many Death Eaters they've written off? It's not possible."  
"Elphias?" Peter suggested.  
"Maybe," James said, "It very well may be him. That would make sense, wouldn't it?"  
  
Remus sat on his bed, feeling the warmth of the mug underneath his fingers. His room was so cold. Well, he guessed it wasn't his room anymore, due to the fact that he didn't live here . . .  
But it still felt familiar.  
The claw marks on the walls were still visible. He shuddered, and turned away from the wall to stare at the door. It was dark in the room, and the only light was coming from the moon outside, and the hall light under the door.  
He had wanted to be alone.  
He had just killed a life.  
He had been thirty four, Frank had said. His name had been Sampson. Sampson had been raising his wand to kill Sirius, and he had just reacted with the only spell that came into his head.  
Avada Kedavra.  
Not Expelliramus. Not Crucio. Not even Imperio. But Avada Kedavra.  
He set the hot chocolate mug down on the floor, and turned his body so that he could lay down in his bed. He couldn't cry for Sampson.  
He hadn't known him.  
But for that one second, the wolf had taken over, it seemed. The wolf inside had smelled fear and blood and flesh, and had shouted those words.  
"That isn't possible," Remus said to himself, "You know that isn't possible, Remus. He's at bay."  
So it had been himself. It had been his own choice to shout out those words. He couldn't blame the wolf for this one.  
He closed his eyes. He knew that he was going to have another warped dream. He always had warped dreams when something was bothering him. The first two years of school, before his friends had found out what he was, he had had so many of them night upon night.  
But he would rather take a dream now than reality. So he begged himself to go to sleep, and soon enough, he was finding himself standing in his old Defense Against the Dark Arts room. It was empty, and not a soul was there. Except for a man at the teacher's desk, writing something on a piece of parchment. For some reason, Remus couldn't see his face. But he knew who it was.  
He knew who it always was.  
It was June, yet again, haunting his dreams.  
"Professor," Remus spoke, and the teacher turned to look at him. He still couldn't see his face.  
"I killed someone tonight," Remus continued, "I killed him with my own words. I . . . I haven't ever hurt anyone before. And now I'm a murderer. That man had a family. He maybe even had someone that he loved. And I killed him. I guess that Klien was right. I am a monster."  
  
"No, you are not," the voice came. It was raspier tonight, and higher. Not like Voldemort's, no. But it was softer and more understanding. Not like June's tone at all.  
"How couldn't I be?" Remus asked, "I killed him! I . . ."  
"Stuck with your friends," June said.  
"But . . . but there must have been a different way to save him," Remus said, "Other than Avada Kedavra. I could have . . ."  
"You chose a path," June continued writing, "And now you must follow that path. You cannot go back and choose another. You must continue forward, and learn from your mistake. Next time, a life will be spared."  
Remus thought about this for a moment. Next time a life will be spared. Next time he wouldn't kill them. He would bring them in for trial. He would not kill them.  
Next time, that he had someone on the ground in front of him, wand pointed at them, and they were begging for mercy . . . next time he would let them go.  
"Yeah," Remus said, nodding, "Next time."  
"I believe the bell has rung, Moony," June said, pointing to the door, "You are free to go."  
Remus walked towards the door, but then stopped. Moony. He had called him Moony. June hadn't known about their nicknames. He had never called him that.  
He turned back to look at the faceless teacher, and he narrowed his eyes. This man . . . who was he?  
"You aren't Professor June, are you?" he asked.  
The teacher kept writing, but shook his head, "No, I am not."  
  
"Well, then who are you?" Remus asked.  
And then he saw it. A large scar going the length of the teacher's hand. The teacher had tried to hide it underneath his sleeve, but it hadn't worked. He remembered that scar. It had come from a particularly bad night. The night before he came to Hogwarts. He had been in his room, when the wolf had scratched him clear across the hand. So deep that he knew that it would never heal. And it never did.  
His eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened to say something. . .  
"Hey, Remus?"  
His eyes shot open, and saw Lily standing above him, holding her own mug of hot chocolate. She was smiling sympathetically as she sat down next to him, and he hoisted himself up off of the pillow to sit beside her.  
Picking up his hot chocolate, he said, "You really are good at dueling."  
Lily sighed, and nodded, "Thanks. So are you."  
Remus didn't answer to this, and took a sip of his drink. He had had a dream about something. About June . . . and a scar . . .  
It was becoming fainter every moment, like dreams sometimes do.  
"Can I ask a question?" Lily asked, running her finger up and down her mug. Remus nodded, and then she said, "How did you meet James?"  
"Well, it's sort of funny," he said, "I actually had to tutor him in Herbology."  
"James needed a tutor?"  
"Yeah," Remus said, "He needed someone to put him on the right track. And Sirius wasn't going to do that," he added with a laugh.  
"So you've known him for a long time?" she asked.  
"Yeah," he said, "I guess so. As long as anyone else, I guess."  
  
Lily shifted, and then said quietly, "When I see you four, together . . . its just like I'm looking at brothers. That was something that I never had with any of my friends. I don't really understand it . . . but its sort of cool, you know?"  
"We all miss Elise, Lily," Remus said simply, and Lily, surprised, looked at him, and then solmemnly nodded.  
"Yeah, I know," she said, and then took a drink of her cup, "God, sometimes I wonder if we really are all going to get out of this alive. I mean, if a life can be killed that easily . . ." she stopped, and then shook her head, "If I die," she said, "You have to promise me something, all right?"  
Remus looked at her, "You're not going to die, Lily."  
"Just make me this promise," she said, staring right at him now, "That you'll take care of James. That you'll make sure he's all right and lives a healthy and happy life. Okay?"  
"Lily . . ."  
"Please, Remus," she said, "I can trust in you."  
Remus sighed, ran a free hand through his hair, and then nodded, "Yeah. Of course I will. But that's not going to happen."  
There was a commotion from downstairs, and then shouting and hollering.  
"Damn little punks!" Moody's voice growled through the hallways, "Thinking that they own the world!"  
Remus and Lily ran out of the room, down the corridor, and down the stairs. James and Peter was helping Frank and Alice to their chairs in the living room. They both looked exhausted, but unscathed miraculously. Dumbledore had not returned. Moody didn't seem upset, though. So it may have been the case that he had waited for officials or some other obligation.  
"What happened?" Lily asked, coming to Alice's aid. Alice pulled away from her, saying that she was fine.  
"The monitor of the entire rally . . . dead," Moody said, shooting a deadly look to Remus, "An important suspect dead. Did I not teach you anything, Lupin?"  
"He was going to kill Sirius . . ."  
"And Black deserves to be dead!" Moody shouted, "Giving away your position like that for his own personal issues! You both are disappointments to me! The only one that did the sensible thing was Pettigrew, which is a first!"  
Peter jumped at his name, and then gave a shaky smile to Moody.  
"Oh, stop grinning like a dolt," Moody snarled, "You don't do the right thing to get accilades! You do it because it's right! They could have been dead because of you two! They could have been dead, Lupin! And where's Black . . . I'd like to have a few choice words with him as well . . ."  
"That was his cousin, Moody," James said, as he helped Frank to his feet.  
"It doesn't matter, James," Frank said, "We all make sacrifices in this war. We all have a personal story. It does not interfere with our work, though. Under no circumstances does it."  
"I believe that not two . . . but THREE of you . . . were sleeping through training," Moody barked.  
"They were going to kill him," Remus said again.  
"AND THEY SHOULD HAVE!" Moody shouted, and the room went quiet. The four youngest members stared at him in dismay, and he even looked disgusted with himself. He stalked out of the room, with Remus glaring at him, and then they heard him run up the stairs to where Sirius was hiding, muttering something that sounded like, "Stupid boy."  
"Six of them got away," Frank said, "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Lucius, and Severus. And then another was was unidentified. All of the other ones are in our custody now. They will either be placed into Azkaban, or given trials. Most likely given trials."  
"With Crouch?" James asked.  
"They're underage," Frank said, "Unless we want the entire wizarding world down our backs, we should probably at least issue them some sort of court appearance."  
Remus was still sitting in the corner as Frank explained all of this to his three friends. He couldn't think anymore. He knew that he had done the right thing. They had made a pact with each other. They were going to save each other, no matter what the outcome. They were all going to survive.  
That's what it was supposed to be about. That's what they had made that pact about.  
Forever alive, right? Isn't that what it was all about?  
According to Moody, it wasn't.  
According to Moody, Sirius should have been dead as they spoke. But he couldn't ever let that happen.  
The dream kept bouncing in the back of his head. He couldn't exactly remember it. But he remembered a scar.  
A very familiar scar. 


	85. Chapter 84: The Greatest Sacrifice

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: Again, it's rated PG-13. You know the drill.)  
  
The world was a ruin. The skies always smoldered with green and red; Dark Marks and fire. They had hit a bottom, and England was in a state of pure fear. No one was safe. No one wasn't a victim anymore.  
Diagon Alley was empty, and the only people visible in the streets were Ministry officials and the shopkeepers and the goblins inside Gringotts. The cobblestone streets that would have been filled with hundreds of wizards and witches were now bare and completely vacant. The Leaky Cauldron was no longer alive, due to the fact that the Ministry had told Tom the barkeeper to make a curfew no later than five o' clock. Platform 9 ¾ was shut out to anyone that was not directly a student from Hogwarts. All parents and guardians and family members were not aloud into the barrier, and the students were herded in a straight line by Ministry officials directly from the train doors to the barrier. The color of the world had turned gray. There was no smiling face on the streets when the wizarding world did venture onto the streets.  
Every day, a new flag could be seen in a wizard's homes. Every time that anyone was added to the memorial, or killed in the War, the Ministry would send one official, along with a green letter and a flag to the survivors of the fallen. The bowler hats that were the trademark for these messengers, and if one was to have been visited by them, they were to be said to have been "Bowlered."  
The flags that were issued out to the families were very plain. It had the silhouette of a man kneeling, his hat taken off and pressed to his heart. The words "The Greatest Sacrifice" was written above, and on any given day, one could walk down a wizarding street, and see at least one of these flags in the front windows of each house. The shadow of the man was duplicated as one continued walking down the street, and soon, all that that person could make out would be hundreds of these men, bowing their heads to an unseen force.  
There were as many of those as there were Dark Marks in the sky on any given night or day.  
And with every flag, and every call to duty, Remus's heart fell farther and farther into despair. Those days of laughing and happiness seemed to be so far away. Everything had changed. And they couldn't ignore this horrible world anymore. Sirius couldn't just say, "Get under the cloak and we can go play in the snow." Now they had to stop this force that was defying everything that he loved. And there was no escaping it.  
Sometimes the Ministry officials would be so busy that they wouldn't have enough Bowlers to go out and spread the joyful news. That's when Dumbledore and Moody would be called in to find replacements.  
And that's when Remus would have to answer the calls, and Bowler the unsuspecting people. They chose him because of his calm and quiet attitude. It somehow soothed the poor families better than Sirius's dark faces, Peter's stuttering, Lily's tears, and James's speeches. For he could act like a normal human being. He had taught himself to keep his emotions at bay and inside of him, unlike Sirius. So he had been stuck with the job of Bowlering people.  
He had grown to hate those green letters and those stupid flags. He hated every one of them that he had to deliver. Every time that he helped a sobbing mother, or a shaking husband help hang the flag in the window, he felt as if he had let them down. He was supposed to be saving their lives. And yet, nothing that he or the rest of the Order did helped.  
Sometimes it felt like a lost cause.  
Giants roamed the European countryside, and they were slowly making their way to the United Kingdom. They were brutal. Like large bringers of death that swept across the wheat fields and villages, pillaging everything in their sights.  
On every street corner, there was a black cloak. They weren't scared of the Order anymore. Supporters of Voldemort flooded the streets, shouting to the citizens to join their ranks, handing out pamphlets. They didn't care if they were arrested. They were recruiting large amounts of people now, and they were an army unlike any other.  
They were the Death Eaters.  
They were Voldemort's pawns.  
But they were still focused on the king. For Moody was right. If they killed the king, the pawns would also fall.  
This was all running through his mind as he sat in the living room of the next family to be a victim of the war. He didn't have a bowler hat on, since he thought that it would be better if he didn't fit the stereotype of the bearer of bad news. He sipped his tea as he gave a wry smile to an older woman, who had been the wife of a man named Werster. Mrs. Werster had no idea why he was there. He felt terrible as he saw her face when he took out the small flag and the green letter. She cried out in horror, and then buried her face in her hands.  
"Last night," Remus said quietly, "By a man that we now have in custody."  
"He was a good man," Mrs. Werster said, taking the flag, "He was the best man I ever knew. I loved him."  
And then she broke down again, sobbing into her hands.  
"I know," Remus said, "But he gave his life to a good cause. You should be proud. He wouldn't have wanted you to be unhappy, Mrs. Werster."  
He said all of the right things. That's why they always sent him. He wouldn't go on for a half an hour about eyes in Heaven and protecting the world like James. He wouldn't start swearing and throwing furniture like Sirius. He wouldn't cry like Lily or Peter. He would be Remus. Whatever the person in need needed, he would be.  
Your husband died for a good cause.  
He was a good man.  
He loved his family.  
The words coming out of his mouth was bollocks. He hadn't known the man. He hadn't known anything about him. And yet . . . and yet he was talking as if he knew him as well as his own wife.  
He didn't know how much longer he could Bowler these people.  
"Would you help me hang this?" the woman said, taking the flag out of his hands with shaking fingers, "I . . . I believe that I'm too old to get it straight on the window. And . . ."  
  
"Of course," Remus stood, taking the flag and walking over to the window.  
"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?" Mrs. Werster asked as he took out his wand to stick it to the pane of glass. Remus turned around. No one had asked him his name before. No one had cared.  
"Remus," he said quietly, "Remus Lupin."  
"Mr. Lupin, you aren't like the other Bowlers," she said, "I had another one in here last week for my sister. I know what you lot are doing is the right thing. Even when it seems like you're losing, you have to keep going. Remember that. Mr. Werster would have fought until the end if only . . ."  
And then she broke off in another fit of tears, and excused herself to the kitchen.  
Two Bowlers in two weeks.  
Remus took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes. How much longer was this War going to last?  
How much longer was he going to last?  
  
The sky was blazing with green again. The entire mansion in front of them was hollow, and filled with a tinge of emerald. The gates were closed, and the only sign that anything had happened here was the skull and snake high above the house, peering down at the Order Members as they entered the dead grounds. The reporters had already arrived and was now crowding the fence, trying to get a quote from one of the Aurors. Sirius looked over to them, as someone flashed a picture of him.  
"Can we have your name, sir?" A man shouted, holding his quill out.  
"Geroff," Sirius growled, and James took his arm.  
"Don't," he said, "Remember. We're not here to kill them."  
Sirius shook himself free of James as they walked up the narrow sidewalk to the front door. Remus trudged behind the others, looking at the Dark Mark that was hovering over the house. The mansion had belonged to the Vincents.  
BAM!  
The house's door exploded, and flew out onto the porch. A smoke came out of the house, and the six Aurors shielded their eyes as they turned away from the blinding red light, now mixing with the green. The reporters gasped, but didn't run. They started snapping pictures at an alarming rate, as the smoke flew onto the porch and then onto the yard, engulfing Moody and the other members.  
James grabbed Lily, and put his cloak over her mouth. She pushed away from him, and ran to Moody, who was leading them into the house.  
"What is that?" she coughed as Moody scanned the walls of the house with his swiveling eye.  
"They're still here," he snarled, and then pushed forward, "Come on, children. Let's get going."  
They trudged closer to the front doors, all of them using their cloaks as bandanas to keep the smoke out of their lungs. Remus's eyes stung as he followed Marlene and Diggle into the front hall. It was larger. These people had been very rich.  
They had been having a family reunion tonight, it seemed. Very stupid in these times. Especially when your father was a highly respected officer in the Ministry. Mr. Vincent had been one of the speakers against Voldemort from the beginning. And now he was dead.  
They knew this because his body was laying, a party hat attached to his head, in the middle of the marble floor. Remus closed his eyes as they entered, not wanting to look at the scene before him. He had seen it too many times.  
The smoke cleared, and Moody lowered his cloak from his mouth.  
"They're here," he said, his swiveling eye examining the walls and entranceways, "Spread out. Find them. Take only prisoners," he added, eyeing Remus.  
Remus's expression didn't change.  
Lily and James walked in one direction, while Marlene and Emmeline made their way farther into what looked like the parlor. The music was still playing softly in the background. It was classical. They had been having a good time when the Death Eaters had struck.  
The music echoed through the halls quietly as Remus drew his wand, and with Peter next to him, entered the ballroom. There was a silence as the music chimed through the room in its calmness. It just added to the ominous tone.  
"Stay close," Remus ordered, and then he scanned the room. More Vincents dead.  
"Oh, God," Lily whispered, following them in as James and Sirius went to check the upstairs, "Are they all dead?"  
"It looks like it," Remus said, and then he heard a clang from his right. His head snapped over to where the noise had come from, and Peter gave a squeak.  
"What was that?"  
Remus didn't answer, but crossed the room to where he had heard the clash, and surveyed the area, "Nothing," he reported, looking into the kitchen off of the ballroom.  
The ballroom was large, with a high ceiling and a polished floor that reflected the people standing ontop of it. A chandielier was hanging from the top of the ceiling, swinging dangerously in the wind that was coming through the now open windows. The golden walls shone back at the three as they made their way farther into the room, and stopped.  
A shadow stood in the corner.  
Smiling at them.  
"Ah," it said, "It is the werewolf again."  
The voice was thickly laced with a Russian accent, and Remus's shoulders tensed. The classical music still rang through his ears as he held his wand out to the Death Eater.  
"Antonin Dolohov," he said in a strong voice, "You are under arrest." 


	86. Chapter 85: Antonin and Alastor

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: Again, it's rated PG-13. You know the drill.)  
  
"Please, werewolf," Dolohov said, walking closer, and lighting a cigarette. The flames illuminated his ghostly face, and his grin exposed his horrible teeth, "Don't fool yourself."  
Lily pointed her wand at him as well, and glared, "Antonin Dolohov, you will be tried in front of the Wizengamot for multiple homocide . . ."  
"And look who else is here," he sneered, letting the smoke billow over his head, "The Potter Mudblood."  
Peter shivered from behind Remus, but still raised his own wand. Dolohov didn't see him, due to the fact that he was much shorter than Lily or Remus, and that way he was safe from harm. But the other two weren't.  
"In here," Remus shouted, "It's Dolohov."  
"You killed Sampson, werewolf," Dolohov chortled, "I told you. I told you all. You are a murderer."  
"Stupefy!" Lily shouted, but Dolohov ducked the spell, and it richocheted off of the wall, and into darkness. He pulled out his own wand, and pointed it at her.  
"Don't make me kill her, werewolf," Dolohov sneered, "Don't make me do it. You know I will."  
"Antonin!"  
Dolohov looked over Lily's shoulder to where Moody was now standing. The music still chimed in all of their ears. It was a piano.  
"Ah, Alastor," he hissed, and raised his wand to Lily's neck, "Now you make a choice. I shall either take this scum or the other with to meet June tonight. Choose one. I shall enjoy killing them."  
"Don't you make one move, Dolohov," Moody said, coming closer.  
"I'll do it, Alastor," Dolohov said, now raising the wand to Lily's temple, "I'll kill her. You wouldn't want another murder on your conscience, now would you?"  
"Don't make this harder for yourself!" Moody raised his own wand, and kept charging forward.  
Remus and Peter watched in horror as Dolohov extinguished his cigarette, and threw the butt on the floor. He gave one last sneer to Moody, and then looked back to Lily.  
"Such a sweet girl," he said, taking her hair, "Pity your blood is filth," and then his smile faded, "Imperio."  
Lily's eyes shot open in shock, as Sirius's had that one day long ago in Moody's living room. Her body became rigid, and then relaxed again. Her face glazed over in a content smile, and Moody stopped walking.  
"I'll kill her, Alastor," Dolohov said, "Now leave this place. Leave and don't look back."  
Moody's eyes were narrowed and dead set on the Russian as he slowly came to a complete stop.  
He wasn't going to do anything! He was going to let him kill her! Someone had to do something . . .  
Remus took out his wand and aimed it at Dolohov, "I don't think so."  
  
Lily turned to him, and sneered, "Ah, the werewolf speaks words of courage. How touching," she raised her wand, "Let us see how well he fights a girl, shall we? Filth against filth?"  
That's when they saw them. Death Eaters emerging from the kitchen, from the entrance to the ballroom . . . at least ten of them.  
Their masks were drawn over their faces, and their cloaks swept across the floor. They made their way to Remus and Lily, who were now facing each other. They laughed when they saw the scene before them, and encircled them.  
"Two demons from hell shall return home tonight," Lily snarled in a voice that was not her own, "Two demons shall meet their father tonight."  
"Lily, get out of it," Remus muttered, "I know you can hear me. You have to wake up."  
"She cannot hear you now," Lily stepped forward, and Peter squeaked.  
"Go get James and the others," Remus whispered to Peter, who was standing outside of the circle that now enclosed them, and he nodded. Peter ran out of the way, and Dolohov paid no heed to him.  
"And as for you, Alastor," he said, turning to the old Auror, "It is just you and I, one last time. Possibly this time, you will not be as stupid as to let me live."  
Lily pointed her wand at Remus, and advanced on him.  
"Expelliramus!" Remus shouted, and Lily flew into the wall of Death Eaters, falling on the ground. Only to rise again.  
"Come on, werewolf," one of the Death Eaters jeered.  
"Lily . . ."  
  
"CRUCIO!" she shouted, and Remus dodged the light flying towards him.  
"Expelliramus!" he cried again, now aiming for her wand. It shot out of her hand and clattered to the floor five feet away. He took this opportunity to lunge at her, grab her around the waist, and tackle her.  
He pinned her to the floor, and gasping to catch his breath, looked her right in the eyes.  
"Lily, look at me," he said, "Come on. You're still there. I know you are. Look at me! Stop this! I know you want to. Come on! Come on, Lily! Fight it!"  
"Get up, werewolf," one of the Death Eaters said, stepping out of the circle. Remus felt a jolt of pain run through his body, and he cried out in agony.  
"Fight!" Lily growled, pushing him off.  
"Lily! Listen to me . . ."  
Lily kicked him, and the Death Eaters laughed.  
"It was squealing for mercy when we threw it in that room," Dolohov said, brandishing his wand again and pointing it at Moody, "What did you call that animal . . . ah, yes . . . I remember now . . . Jonathon was begging for mercy. I would not have been surprised if the little heathen would have turned sides if we had let it live."  
"Avada Kedavra!" Moody shouted, and the green light shot past Dolohov's shoulder.  
"Ah, such a curse for such a man," Dolohov said, bowing, "I feel honored, Alastor, I really do."  
"Avada Kedavra!" Moody cried again, and this one grew closer to Dolohov's ear. Dolohov continued walking towards him, ready to strike himself.  
"It was my pleasure ridding this world of the evil demon," Dolohov sneered, raising his own wand, "Crucio."  
Moody dodged the light, and shouted for the third time, "Avada Kedavra!"  
Again, it missed Dolohov.  
"You are trying to miss," Dolohov commented, "You are old, but not that old. You could kill me if you desired to."  
"LILY!" Remus said, as she went to retrieve her wand from one of the Death Eaters, "Please, Lily! Hold onto my voice!"  
"Antonin Dolohov," Moody started, raising his wand, "You are under arrest for the murder of . . ."  
"Kill me, old man," Dolohov said, holding his arms out in a surrender, "Kill me."  
"The Dark Lord will rid the world of the unpure of mind and soul," Lily said, raising her wand above Remus's head.  
"Lily . . ."  
"The Dark Lord will purify his world . . ."  
"You will be tried in front of the Wizengamot for multiple homocide . . ." Moody continued.  
"You still will not kill me, will you?" Dolohov said.  
"You don't deserve to die," Moody snarled, and then pointed his wand in another direction to his side, "Avada Kedavra."  
There was a sound of two falling bodies as the green light illuminated the room, and Dolohov's gaze shot over to see who had been caught by the spell. Two of the Death Eaters surrounding Remus and Lily were sprawled out on the floor. They was dead.  
"Avada Kedavra," Moody shouted again, and a large light hit six of them, and Dolohov glared.  
The remaining two Death Eaters turned their attention to the Auror, wands raised.  
"No," Dolohov shouted to them, "This one is mine."  
"We have orders from . . ."  
"I do not care," Dolohov retorted, "He is mine!"  
"AVADA KEDAVRA," Moody cried, and the last two fell. Remus got to his feet, but Lily pushed him back down.  
"Hit me," she said, "Kill me."  
"Lily . . ."  
"Care for me to continue, Antonin?" he said, now pointing his wand towards Lily.  
Dolohov narrowed his eyes, his face very sour.  
"You will kill me," he hissed.  
"No, Antonin," Moody said, "You will see the end of this war, and you will feel your consequences for your actions. No one can escape the true justice."  
"You fool . . ." Dolohov sneered.  
"You fear the end," Moody said, still pointing his wand to Lily, "But you will see it. You aren't getting out of it that easily."  
There was a squeaking of shoes on the cleaned floor of the ballroom as the rest of the Order filed in through the main door, and surveyed the scene. James looked to Remus and Lily, and his face became white.  
"You cannot protect them any longer, Alastor," Dolohov said, raising his hands again in a surrender, "Tell that to your Dumbledore for me."  
And then in a pop of sound, he was gone.  
Lily blinked, and then looked from Remus to Moody, who still had his wand raised to her. She gave out a gasp, and took a step back. Moody lowered his wand, and James rushed forward.  
"What happened in here?" Frank demanded, running to the front of the crowd as James embraced Lily. Sirius and Peter went to the aid of Remus, helping him shakily to his feet.  
"Dolohov," Moody reported, "He was the only one that escaped."  
"I . . . I . . . I could see it happen, but I couldn't stop it!" Lily cried, looking in horror to Remus, "I am so sorry! I . . ."  
"Are you all right?" James asked.  
"Yeah, I'll live," Remus said, holding his side, and leaning on Sirius.  
Sirius gave out a nervous laugh, and then shook his head, "Moony got beaten up by a girl. What would your father say?"  
Everyone gave out a weak laugh, and Remus got his balance and let go of Sirius.  
"I want a search warrant for Dolohov's old place," Moody said, "We should have done that months ago. I have a feeling he really is bringing it back into use. I want posters all around town of that man, and I want him found, gagged, chained, and thrown into Azkaban."  
"The reporters are flocking to the door, Mad Eye," Kingsley shouted from the entrance hall, "I don't know how long we can hold them off."  
"Tell them that unless they want a second head tonight, that they're to respect the Ministry's rules and vacate the premises at once," Moody snarled, and Frank sighed, rubbing his temples.  
"I'll come with you," he said, and ran out of the ballroom. Lily was still staring at Moody, unbelievingly. Moody looked back at her, and then glared.  
"Mrs. Potter," he snapped, "This is no time for your dramatics! Put your eyes back in your sockets and start to identify these bodies. Now."  
  
Lily and James entered their house, exhausted that night. Lily hadn't said a word since they had left, and now she quietly floated up the stairs, and into their room. James sighed, mussed his hair, and set his and Lily's wands on the front table. It had been a hard night for her.  
He followed his wife up the stairs, and into the bedroom. She was already laying down in the bed, brushing her long hair out of her face and staring at the wall in front of her. It seemed as if she didn't even hear him walk into the room.  
"Lily . . ." he started.  
"He was going to kill me," Lily said, looking up at James, "He had his wand pointed at me."  
  
"Who?"  
Lily broke out in tears, and James rushed to her side, taking her hands in his.  
"Don't cry. Please . . . I don't want to see you cry," he said, and Lily rested her head on his shoulder.  
"God," she whispered, "I . . . I know what Remus feels like. Not having any control over the hurting that you bring to others. Not having control over your actions. I've been through that curse before, but . . . but somehow it was different this time. I was a villain. Moody pointed his wand at me, just like the Death Eaters. I was one of them to him."  
"It's all right, Lily," James said, rubbing her shoulders as she sobbed into his shirt, "Just calm down."  
"And . . . and I just have to wonder," Lily said, "What exactly are we doing in this war? Why us? Why me?"  
"I ask myself that question, too, Lily," James said, and Lily put her head in his lap. He stroked her hair as he took a deep breath, and then added, "And then I ask myself 'why not me?'"  
"What?"  
"How would my life had been different if I had never met you. And if I hadn't met the guys. And if my father hadn't been in the Order. And if I had turned in the other direction when me and Remus were walking that Christmas," he said, and Lily's bright green eyes, littered with tears, stared up at him.  
"And I came to a conclusion about that life," James said.  
"And what was that?"  
James smiled warmly, and touched her cheek, "It wouldn't have been a life worth living."  
Lily gave a tired smile, and touched his cheek with her own hand, "Yeah," she added in a forced voice through her tears, "You're right."  
That night, there were no more tears. No more talk of war. Just dreams that filled the two of their heads, throwing them far away from the hell surrounding them, and into a paradise only the two of them would ever know. 


	87. Chapter 86: An Announcement

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The summer died away slowly, and fall quickly came. The leaves fell onto the ground. Remus watched them from his cottage window during one of his transformations, counting down the hours until he would have full control over his mind again. Sirius, James, or Peter usually accompanined him at his home during these horrific nights. They were still more than happy to keep watch over their dear friend. So they took monthly shifts. The first shift had gone to Sirius, and then Peter, and then James. Lily had protested that she should come along as well, but James told her that she would do more harm than good, and because of this, she stayed.  
  
Soon the leaves outside of the Lupin cottage were browning on the ground and being grounded into the dirt and earth. The first snowflake fell a night that Padfoot was accompanying Moony, and they watched the snow fly through the air that entire night from Moony's front room out the paned glass.  
  
There were small instances when they were children again, and one of them was the transformation nights with Remus. Sirius closed his eyes during these nights, pretending that the hard wooden floor of Lupin's home was truly the one of the Shrieking Shack, and that the woods outside was not Sherwood, but the Forbidden Forest.  
  
Sadly, he would always have to open his eyes at one time or another, and he would be reminded yet again that indeed, no, he was an adult. And this was his world now.  
  
There was no going back to school.  
  
God, what would he have given to have one more paper to write for Professor Hall, or one more examination from Professor McGonagall? Or to be able to disappear under James's cloak one last time?  
  
But sadly, he now faced his tiring job at the Ministry, late nights filled with meetings, planning, and second-guessing Voldemort's moves, and monthly breaks with Moony, trying to keep him at bay.  
  
Sometimes he would go out to the park in London, where he had seen Jessica Lindher first, and where Remus and James had seen Voldemort. He half was hoping to see Jessica again. To feel some sort of comfort from her smiling face.  
  
"Ah, Sirius, where have you been?"  
  
"Around," he would say, "How's Joey?"  
  
"Joey is good," Mrs. Lindher would reply, her face alight with happiness, "He made his football team. His father is very proud of him. Going to be a goalie just like him. Have you burned any buildings down yet?"  
  
"No, not yet."  
  
He felt trapped in this schedule of every day. He wasn't supposed to be living like this! He was supposed to be free! Alive!  
  
But then he would see Joey, peeking from behind his mother's waist, and smile up at him. A little boy in a big scary world. And yet he would smile.  
  
At this thought, Sirius also felt himself smile.  
  
"Happy Christmas!"  
  
Sirius looked surprised as a jolly Frank, holding a glass of champange in his hands opened the door to Moody's home. Frank hadn't smiled like that for such a long time. Alice was right behind him, trying to advance on her husband with mistletoe.  
  
"Join the celebration!" Frank said, letting him in. Sirius was carrying a present in a large wrapped box. He handed it off to Diggle, who was standing quietly inside the entrance hall. Upon entering the house, the blaring Christmas music resounded through Sirius's ears, and he looked around.  
  
Every Order member was laughing, holding a wine glass, in the entrance hall and dining room, wearing their best. It was the last Christmas party of the decade, and they had decided to celebrate to lighten the mood. Marlene and Kingsley were kissing quietly from underneath the mistletoe, Marlene turning a bright shade of red and Kingsley laughing halfway through the kiss. Dorcas was melancholy, standing in the corner of the room, telling a horror story to Edgar Bones about the horrendous things that Death Eaters did to spies that were caught.  
  
"I've seen it with my own two eyes," she said in her monotone voice as Edgar took a sip of his wine. His hand was shaking.  
  
"Hey, Padfoot!"  
  
Sirius turned to come face to face with Remus, who was holding his own glass of wine, "How are you?" he asked as he slapped him on the back, "Happy Christmas!"  
  
"Yeah, Happy Christmas," Sirius said, forcing a smile. What was wrong with Remus? Why was he acting so . . . giddy?  
  
"What?" Remus asked, taking a drink of his wine, "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"What happened?" Sirius asked, "Don't tell me Lily's pregnant."  
  
Remus laughed, and shook his head, "No, of course not. God, wouldn't that be hell."  
  
Sirius forced a laugh, and nodded, "So what's with the wine and grin?"  
  
"Lily's not pregnant," Remus said, grabbing Sirius and pulling him aside, "But someone else is. Now I'm not supposed to be telling you this, since they want to make the announcement themselves, but Alice found out yesterday. Her and Frank are going to have a baby."  
  
Sirius looked at him, wide eyed, trying to force the mental image of how this would have come about, and shook his head, "What? Alice?"  
  
"Well, Padfoot, she is a girl," Remus laughed, and Sirius looked over quickly to where the bubbly Alice Longbottom was kissing Frank passionately. She didn't look pregnant. How in God's name could that have happened?  
  
"Where's everyone else?" he asked, turning back, "I want to get out of here as soon as I can. I hate this place," he added, rubbing his arms. Remus chortled, and shrugged.  
  
"Peter said he would be coming. Had something to do beforehand, though," he said, "Work seems to be keeping him busy anymore. He works for the Ministry, remember? And you know how they can be."  
  
Sirius laughed, "Yeah, I do."  
  
A streak of red caught his eye a he looked over Remus's shoulder. It was accompanied by an oval face with glasses perched ontop of his nose. James and Lily. They had arrived.  
  
"Oy! Potter! Morgana!" Sirius shouted, and they turned in a fluster. Or at least, Lily did. James's face brightened immediately, and he skidded over to them as Lily nervously followed him. She looked very peaky, and her eyes were darting to every corner of the room. She crossed her arms, and tried to avoid eye contact with any of the boys, including her husband. But they didn't seem to notice, except for Remus.  
  
He gave her an inquiring look, but she just turned away, and pretended to be very interested in a chrysanthemum sitting on a table close to them. James and Sirius embraced, and then James and Remus shook hands. The music was still blaring in their ears.  
  
"Happy Christmas!" Fabian announced as he entered with Gideon through the door. Diggle took their cloaks, and sent them on their way.  
  
Quickly, the entrance hall was filling with the twenty five members of the Order, all singing and dancing and talking as loudly as their wine- ridden voices let them. The three friends quickly joined in the celebration, forgetting all of the hell that they had been through the past year. It was the holidays, and they were children again.  
  
"Hey," Sirius said, eyeing the table filled with snacks, "Anyone feel like a bit of hexing the pastries?"  
  
"We're nineteen, Sirius, not nine," Remus said, pushing James back as he headed for the table with his friend, "It's time you start to act your age."  
  
Sirius gave him a look, and then continued to the pastry table. James tugged away from Remus, and then with a mischevious smile, shrugged.  
  
"This party isn't the same without a little bit of marauding," he said weakly, "Come on, for old time's sake?"  
  
"Do it for Moony, Remus," Sirius said, turning around as he reached for his wand, "Surely you remember him? A little stalky, with long brown hair and fangs?"  
  
Remus sighed, and joined his friends at the table to come face to face with the largest pile of pumpkin pastries that any three of them had seen. The little boys arose inside their hearts, and Sirius felt himself grinning.  
  
"Now, what do you reckon, James?" he said, turning to his friend, "Hot Tongue Hex, or the good old Bombing Buttox?"  
  
"I'd go with Bombing Buttox, Padfoot," Remus offered, and the two boys looked at him in disbelief. Remus smiled, and took out his own wand, "All together now?"  
  
"May I have your attention please?"  
  
A glass sounded from the entrance hall. Sirius looked up from watching the pastry table, as Elphias and Benjy Fenwick embarrasingly waved the stenched air away from them. Both of them had made large noises from their behinds only seconds ago, and Benjy had turned quite red.  
  
He looked now to the spiraling staircase, where Alice and Frank stood, five steps from the bottom, holding their glasses. Moody and Kingsley, who had been speaking in private, turned as well, and Moody's eye swiveled to Alice. His eye seemed to be examining something on the stomach of her dress, and soon his expression grew cold. He glared at Frank.  
  
"We have an important announcement, Alice and I," Frank said, ignoring Moody and taking Alice's shoulders by his hands, "As all of you know, we have been married for a beautiful seven years. And we are very much in love."  
  
"I'm going to have a baby!" Alice squealed, and all of the girls of the Order squealed with joy.  
  
"Oh! Alice!" Marlene shrieked, "Congrats!"  
  
"When is it due?" Emmeline asked joyfully, running forward.  
  
"Sometime in July," Frank answered, "And we all hope that you all will give us your best wishes."  
  
"Of course we do!" Edgar shouted, "Good man, becoming a father."  
  
"Stupid man," Moody growled, and the room went silent. All heads turned to look at the old Auror, who was still glaring at Frank and his wife like they had just committed adultery. He stalked forward, and pointed one of his scarred fingers at Frank.  
  
"You should have understood the danger that you were putting your first born into. This is no time to be having a child. Settle down after the War."  
  
"And when will that be, Mad Eye?" Sirius piped up, and Moody spun around to glare at him.  
  
"What was that, Mr. Black?" he snarled, and Sirius shrugged from his seat next to Remus and James.  
  
"When is the War going to be over?" he asked again, "Never, it seems like."  
  
"No one can be sure," Moody said, "But what we do know is that the War is now, and that Alice, with child, cannot be aloud to be put into any dangerous situation. Not only have we created a deletion from the Order, but we have also created a weak point for the enemy."  
  
"Alastor," Frank laughed nervously, "Alice will continue to . . ."  
  
"No, she will not," Moody snapped, "It is not Alice's decision. She will be relieved from her duties until her child is born. And after your child is born, you will move into Headquarters so you will be safe from anyone wanting to harm you."  
  
"You cannot tell us what to do with our . . ."  
  
"Oh, but I can," Moody snarled, "I can tell you exactly what to do with your lives until this War is over. You also signed that contract, Frank. Your life is the Order's. And so is yours, Alice."  
  
"Alastor, you're overreacting," Alice said, looking like she was going to fight to the death to keep her life the way it was, "Nothing is going to happen."  
  
"You cannot honestly think that both of you will come out of this War unscathed," Moody snarled, coming closer to them, "You cannot honestly be that dunderheaded to believe such a foolish thing," he pointed at Frank, "You may be Frank Longbottom, but you still have responsibilities. You're in the same ship as us. And now you have brought an innocent life into this hell that we have created. You have brought an innocent child into this War. And you must face the consequences."  
  
The room seemed divided at the moment. The older members seemed to side with Moody, and the younger in complete disgust with what Moody was proposing. Lily, who had been sitting in the corner of the dining room all night, seemed to have lost all color in her face. She was looking fearfully from Frank, to Alice, to Moody, and then back to Alice. She clutched her stomach, and her lip trembled. Sirius nudged James, and nodded to her. James looked, and then furrowed his brow.  
  
Slowly the room came back to life, and Alice and Frank were pulled over to Moody to speak to him in private. All of the conversations had turned to what had just happened, except for the three boys that were still eyeing the quiet girl across the room.  
  
"She's been like that for a while now," James said, "But she won't tell me what's wrong. I ask her, and she won't ever answer."  
  
"So go ask her again," Sirius urged him, pushing him in Lily's direction, "I want to know. Get going."  
  
James sheepishly crossed the room, as if he and his wife had never spoken to each other before. He made his way through the crowd, and finally to where Lily sat. Lily jumped, and looked startled. Sirius and Remus quietly watched from their seats as James said something, Lily took his hand, and rested her forehead on it.  
  
James said something else, and Lily pointed to the staircase. Then he helped her up, and they made their way from the dining room to the stairs and then up the spiraling case.  
  
"She is acting sort of odd," Remus commented, looking after the two.  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "And we're going to find out what. Come on," he said, and took out his wand, "Time to put that Invisibility Spell to use." 


	88. Chapter 87: The Sixth Marauder

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
James looked at Lily in amazement, his mouth open and his eyes wide. The room had spun. The stars had fallen from the sky. And he wa in a mixture of emotions.  
Half of him was in pure joy. And the other half was in pure horror.  
"How long have you known?" he asked, still awed at this creature before him.  
Lily shrugged. She was sitting on the bed. They were in James's old room, and she had her arms and legs crossed, looking very small and white on the large bed. Her eyes were still scanning the floor.  
"A month? I went to the Healer's in November, and he told me that I was a month in," she admitted, "I was afraid to tell you. I . . . I didn't think you'd be too thrilled."  
"And now you've decided to tell me . . . why?" James asked, starting to pace, "It's my problem, too. We could have worked it out together."  
"James, I didn't think that you'd understand," Lily said, a tear coming to her eye, "I thought that maybe . . ."  
"Maybe what?" James said, throwing his hands up, "That I'd leave you?" Lily flinched, "God, Lily, I thought you knew me better than that?"  
She swallowed hard, and then said, "James, I know that you'd never leave me. But . . . but I don't know if I'm ready to do this. I'm nineteen. I just turned nineteen. I'm a child myself! How am I supposed to be able to take care of a totally separate person? How am I supposed to have that responsibility?" her eyes bulged, "What are my parents going to say?"  
James's face fell. Mr. Evans's face came back to him, and he gulped.  
"We don't need to tell him . . . I mean, them," James said, "Just us."  
"Well, I think that people are going to figure it out after a while," Lily said, pointing to her stomach, "Unless you want to say that I've magically grown a beer gut, I don't think that we can exactly hide the fact."  
James took a chair, and sat opposite of her. He took her hands in his, and she lifted her head to look at him. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with tears not yet fallen.  
"Lily," James said, "We've gotten this far. And we're not giving up now. It's going to be all right. I swear. I'm going to be there for you. And for . . . for it," he said, looking at her stomach, "For both of you. I promise. Remember when I promised you that I wouldn't run away? I'm not. I'm here. And we're going to get through this together."  
"It's too early," she said, the tears now falling, "God, I didn't want it to happen now. Not in the middle of this War and . . . and James, we're too young."  
"They said that about marriage, too, Lily," James said, "You and I can do anything, remember? No rules and regulations? That's us, remember?"  
Lily, nodding and slowly letting the tears drop to her cheeks, rested her head upon his shoulder, and he embraced her, "Now look. I've always wanted a family. We can see this in a good light."  
"Well, I've always wanted a family, too, James, but . . ." Lily sat up, and dried her eyes, "Let's be practical about this. There's really no way that two people of our age and of our position can take care of a baby."  
"Don't analyze everything, Lily," James said, "We're going to be perfectly fine. It's an adventure. We'll do it together. The three of us."  
The door slowly creaked open, and they quickly shot their heads to look at the entrance. There stood Remus and Sirius, looking around the room, and then to them. Sirius blinked, seeing that James was looking at him, and then nudged Remus. Remus then looked at James, and then to Lily, and then to his own body. He then hit Sirius on the arm, and glared.  
"You dolt!" he said, under his breath.  
"What?" Sirius whispered, still not sure if James and Lily were looking directly at them or through them.  
"You didn't do the spell right," Remus hissed, and then gave a wry smile to James and Lily, "Excuse us two. Just passing through."  
"They can see us?" Sirius said, looking in horror to James, "Ah, and so they can," he added louder as James nodded.  
"We'll be going now," Remus said, and pushed Sirius out the door, "Sorry to interrupt you. Continue."  
"No, wait," James said, and stood. Lily looked horrified. She took his hand, and he turned to look at her.  
"They need to know, Lily," he said sternly, and she, retreating, nodded reluctantly. Remus looked from her to James, and then furrowed his brow.  
"What exactly is going on?" he asked quietly.  
James looked to Sirius, and mussed his hair, "Well, Lily sort of had news for me today. You see . . . well . . ." James's lip curled into a wry smile, "She's . . . sort of pregnant."  
Sirius let out a barking laugh, stepping into the room, and he held his sides as he guffawed. Remus's face was completely stone. His eyes were set on Lily, and she shifted on the bed. He was staring at her. Judging her.  
"Oh, that was a good one, James," Sirius said, slapping James on the back, "I thought you said that Lily was pregnant."  
"I did," James said, and then took Lily's hand again, "It's due in July."  
  
Remus didn't say anything, but just stood motionless behind Sirius, his eyes hazy and his mouth forming a firm line. He remembered Moody's speech. He had agreed with him. This child that was to be born would be born into the hell that all of them had entered. They were guilty. But the child was not. Why should it have the same fate as its parents?  
"James?" Sirius said, and then giving a quick look to Lily, his smile widened, "Ah, Ja-ames," he said, putting an arm around his shoulder, "Good going, mate."  
  
Lily looked in disgust to Sirius, and then back to Remus, briskly saying, "If you're going to say something, say it."  
Remus blinked, and then shook his head, "Nothing. I'm not going to say anything."  
"Yes, you were," Lily said, standing up to face him, "You want to judge me? Go ahead. What were you thinking?"  
Sirius and James looked back at Remus, as Remus tried to face Lily without angering her. The left eye was already twitching. God, why did she do that?  
"Well, I believe that it was very irresponsible of you two," Remus said truthfully, reaching into his robes for his wand, just in case Lily did anything, "We are in a war time. It isn't exactly the ideal period to be raising a family. And . . . and you are very young."  
  
"God, Moony," Sirius coughed, "You sound just like Mad-Eye."  
"Because Mad-Eye was right," Remus said, and Sirius's smile faded, "Moody knows what's best," Remus continued on, James looking at Lily out of the corner of his eye, "You are only nineteen."  
"And we were eighteen when we were married," Lily argued.  
"My point exactly," Remus said.  
"You point?" James said, "What do you mean your point? Moony, our marriage has gone perfectly fine."  
"A baby is not a marriage," Remus argued, "It's another life."  
Lily, Sirius, and James stood there, staring at their solemn friend who stood alone. If only Peter had been there. Peter would have stood beside him against this. They had been stupid. They had been completely irresponsible . . .  
"Remus," Lily started, "We won't be alone. We'll have the three of you. You and Sirius and Peter. My child will have three wonderful uncles that will help out. Or at least, I hope they will."  
"Of course," Sirius said, beaming, "Oh, James, we're going to show him all of the secret passageways. All about the school. And the Shrieking Shack. He'll be just like us. Right, Moony? Another Marauder?"  
  
Remus gave Lily's warmer face one more stare, and then cautiously looked to Sirius. His mouth still formed a firm line, but his right eye was narrowed in an expression that could be either contempt or deep thought. James looked hopefully to him, pleading with his eyes. He needed support now. He didn't need Remus's lectures. He needed him to be supportive.  
And Remus was a Bowler. Whatever the victim needed him to be, he became.  
"Yeah," Remus said reluctantly, "The sixth Marauder."  
  
They told Moody that night, and swept him aside out of the party. They decided that it was best to get it over and done with as soon as they could. He wasn't pleased.  
"I thought that you two, especially you two, could have been a little more grounded," Moody growled as he took out his hip flask, "I am very disappointed. You two will also move into Headquarters after the child is born . . ."  
"No," James said, taking Lily's shoulders from behind, "We aren't hiding. We fight. Lily continues to fight. And after July, we stay in our house. I'm not running, and neither is my family."  
  
"Pride is dangerous, Potter," Moody said offhandedly as he took a swig of his flask.  
"Pride is all I have left," James said, determined, and Moody gave a half smile to the boy that stood before him. He shook his head sadly, and then looked away from the couple.  
"What?" James asked, and Moody sighed a tired sigh. His swiveling eye turned to stare him right on.  
"The past is a circle, Potter," he said, in a tired and worn voice, "The past is our future. Fates have a way of repeating themselves."  
And then he left, stalking into the entrance hall and out of sight. Lily and James looked to where he had disappeared, as the front door opened, and the cold wind blew in. Soon, Peter's chilled figure could be seen from the doorway, and the two of them strode over to him to tell him the news. Peter looked spooked and cold as James took his arm and led him over to the kitchen.  
"Peter, we need to talk," James said quietly, and Peter blinked.  
"Why? What's going on? Why are you grabbing me?" he demanded. He looked terrified as James shut the door behind him and Lily. It was just the three of them now, and Peter looked cornered. He also looked very ridiculous in his parka and long scarf. His cheeks were chapped from the winter cold from outside, and his skin was white. Lily didn't know if it was from the weather or James grabbing him.  
"We don't want to tell everyone right now," James said, "Moody's having a fit, and Remus went all mother hen on us," he sighed, and took Lily's hand, "We want you to know, though. We're pregnant?"  
Peter blinked, and looked from one of them to the other, and his face relaxed, "Oh. So this is what this is about."  
"Did you not hear me? We're pregnant," James said, and Peter's chapped face contorted into a smile.  
"Both of you?"  
"No, you dolt," he said, smacking the top of Peter's head, "Lily is."  
"So you're going to have a baby?" Peter said, suddenly letting it all sink in. His face was pale again.  
"Yes," Lily said, her hoarse voice speaking for the first time, "We're going to have a baby."  
"Oh," Peter said, forcing another smile on his face, "Oh. Well, that's nice. That's very nice."  
"That's all you've got to say?" James said, taking him by the shoulders, "You aren't going to wring us out? Come on, Wormtail. Be useful for once. Tell us it's a bad idea. That's what everyone else has been doing."  
  
"I believe you two can make it," Peter said, "You've made it this far, haven't you? I knew it, that you would be a father, James. I knew you would."  
It was in that moment that James could have hugged Peter. His two best friends had failed him. Remus had hated the idea. Sirius had laughed. He knew what that meant. He could read his friend.  
He had laughed again.  
It had been a while since he had done that. But bad habits were hard to break.  
But here stood Peter, giving them the reassurance that they needed. Here stood Peter, completely loyal, completely truthful. He knew that they could do it. And that's what James needed to hear at that moment. It's what James wanted to hear.  
For he himself was not so sure that it was the absolute truth.  
"Ah! Albus!" someone sounded from behind the closed door. The wind gushed in, and they could tell that the storm was picking up. Three pairs of footsteps entered, and Lily opened the door to see who had arrived.  
"It's Dumbledore, with Hagrid," she informed the two boys, "And some old man is with them. Never seen him before."  
The three of them made their way back into the entrance hall, and saw Moody, still steaming from the ears, charging towards the old Headmaster. They were done for.  
Moody would tell his version of the story, and both them and the Longbottoms would be done for.  
"What should we do?" James asked, turning to Lily, "We have to get to him before . . ."  
But Lily wasn't there.  
"Lily?" James said, confused. She was no where in sight. Where had she gone?  
Peter tugged on his sleeve, and then pointed to the spiraling staircase. Lily was making her way up the case to where Alice and Frank had stood. She had a glass of wine in her hand, and she was clearing her throat.  
"Why," James groaned, and sprinted through the crowd of Aurors to meet his wife on the stairs. His face was now a red, and he could feel the eyes of Sirius on him. The two of them were talking by the cauldron cakes. Remus turned around, and his smile faded. He looked so much older now. Like this unborn child was not only James and Lily's, but his as well.  
"We have to tell them all now," Lily said as James turned to face the crowd, "We have to tell them now."  
"Mrs. Potter," Moody barked from the floor as Dumbledore removed his large hat and gave it to Diggle.  
"May I have everyone's attention, please," Lily shouted, and James darted his eyes to her, "No more fear, James," she muttered under her breath, and grabbing his hand in her free one, "I have an announcement to make," she added to the party guests.  
Frank and Alice, who were quietly sitting off in the dining room, came out of the doorway, Alice with streaks of tears on her face. Frank looked very solemn as he spotted James, and his mouth hung open.  
"James and I have an announcement to make," Lily continued on, not letting anyone stop her, including herself, "I am going to have a child . . ."  
The room went quiet. These two, children themselves, stood in front of them, telling them the impossible. They were nineteen. They were in the midst of a war. Who could have asked for worse circumstances.  
  
Moody's eyes narrowed, as if it was now official.  
"And no one is going to stop us," Lily said, "I don't care what any of you think. I don't know anything about being a mother . . ."  
"That's right, you don't!" Elphias snorted.  
"But I know how to love," Lily said, ignoring his comment, "And that's what I'm going to do. That's what both of us are going to do."  
She looked to Alice, and smiled a sad smile, "It's due in July. Our children are going to be the best of friends. And they'll grow up together. And hopefully, my baby can have as good as friends as my husband has," she raised her glass to Sirius and Remus and Peter, now all standing together, "And I hope that my baby will have the pleasure of knowing all of them for what wonderful people they are."  
Alice and Frank now edged back into the crowd, holding their own glasses. Marlene took Alice by the shoulders, and smiled her freckled smile.  
"And no one," she said, looking back to Moody with eyes like a hawk, "No one is going to take that away from my child. No one will teach my child fear. No one."  
Moody's face was blank. Not out of shock, or awe. But of something else that James couldn't exactly make out.  
Dumbledore was standing behind his colleague, his eyes twinkling. He had a small smile on his face, and it seemed that he was slowly nodding from behind that large beard. James looked at him, and into his old worn eyes.  
Your father would be proud, a voice came running through his head.  
James blinked, and turned away. Legilimency.  
"I believe," Dumbledore said, now turning to the crowd, "That this is cause for celebration."  
They all looked to him as if he was mad, but he only spread his arms wide, and said, "Come, two children are on their way. The new generation that we are fighting for, am I wrong?"  
"Albus . . ." Moody started.  
"At any other time, we would celebrate such an event, would we not?" Dumbledore said, taking out his wand, "Let us smile, and thank our good fortunes that such an occurrence has taken place."  
And with a flick of his wand, the refreshments replenished themselves, and the Christmas tree grew twice the size of what it was minutes ago. The Christmas music changed into beautiful sounds that could only be matched by perfection. And a wine glass found its way into everyone's hand.  
"Now let us celebrate," Dumbledore said, and they somehow magically obeyed him.  
Years after that night, Remus believed that Dumbledore set some sort of charm onto the house. For all thoughts of war and fate left the house, and the inhabitants were only left with joy. Pure joy.  
But Remus didn't laugh that night. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
And so when the picture was taken, all of them huddled together in the living room, laughing and raising their glasses . . . there was no fear.  
There was only happiness.  
Marlene could be found, standing beside Frank and Alice, laughing wholeheartedly, her Irish joy spreading to the couple whom she loved so much. Sirius stood behind James towards the back, who was seated in a chair, next to Peter. Lily was on the other side of Wormtail, and the four of them were laughing. Forgetting all of their problems. They were young again. And it was only Remus that was still troubled.  
He watched them quietly from his spot next to Emmeline, and didn't have the heart to wake them from their spell. He would have to feel their pain for the night. That's who he was, wasn't it? The sensible one? The one who thought too much? The one that worried too much?  
Well, he had tried not to worry. He had tried to laugh. But any chance of him laughing had been demolished in Lily's announcement. For some reason, something didn't seem right.  
It draws nearer, the wolf inside murmured from inside his heart.  
You don't control me, Remus replied, You never did.  
You know that it draws nearer, the wolf hissed in his ear, Look at them. So happy. So naïve. But you aren't. You know what the world holds. You've seen it first hand. You can't expect to come out of this unscathed.  
And Lupin looked to Moody. He remembered the words that he had said to Frank. And his throat grew dry.  
Twenty five doomed souls of the Order of the Phoenix. They were the soldiers that would never be remembered, except for a group of letters engraved into the stone of a cold and forgotten memorial.  
Isn't that what happened to real heroes? 


	89. Chapter 88: Remus and Lily

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
One week after the party, they was ready to go back to work. The rejoicing had ended, and Lily and James were back to life as they had to know it now. They went to a Healer as soon as they could, and the Healer announced that Lily was entering her third month. That was in the beginning of January.  
And so Lily was not there with them as soon as the Auror work became demanding again. Yet, they practically had to tie her to a chair to stop her from following James into the line of fire that was called England.  
Remus had been detached from the group since that night, and he was not called to duty one day as the other three were. This was why he found himself at the Potter's house, speaking quietly with Lily in their parlor. He had been to this house hundreds of times, but this time, it just felt different. Lily was starting to bulge a little.  
Or was it just his imagination?  
His parents had never had another child. They didn't think it'd be very good to have a baby around a . . . well, around Remus.  
How was he going to explain to this new baby what he was? Should he keep it a secret? Or should he try to bring the child up with no prejudice, telling it all of his secrets?  
No. He would never tell that child what he was. Never.  
James could tell it.  
"You wanted to talk?" Lily asked, curled up in her chair. She was wearing her Muggle clothing that she had brought from home after she moved out a year and a half ago. A T-shirt, tucked into some flared jeans. Sneakers. And her hair pulled back into a braid. She looked horrible.  
"I wanted to explain to you why I said the things that I said," Remus said, sitting in his own chair opposite of her. He had known Lily longer than any of the other boys. They had been acquaintances in first year. Both of them had been students striving to do their best and prove themselves. She was a Muggle born, and he was a werewolf. They had started with the same mutual group of friends. But slowly he was caught up in the friendship of the troublemakers, and he and she broke apart. They had never had any sort of dating or even an attraction to each other. It always seemed that she was preoccupied with another boy. Remus smiled to himself now, as if he knew a secret that his younger self did not know.  
"And," Lily said. She was so brave. She had been a lot braver than him.  
"And I want to say that I don't want to be at ends with you," Remus said, "You or James or Sirius."  
She had trusted him.  
"I love you like a sister, Lily," he continued, "And I want to give you my best wishes and my support."  
Lily nodded, and smiled, "Well, thank you, Remus."  
"And I hope that there aren't any hard feelings between us," he said.  
Lily sighed, and pushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes, "No, that's fine. I understand where you were coming from. I really do."  
Remus felt a small smile curl onto his face, and he wasn't afraid to show it.  
  
"James?"  
James rolled over in bed, groaning. He was tired. It had been a long night. They had arrested two more Death Eaters, but one of them had gotten away before arriving at Ministry Headquarters. They had identified the escapee as a man named Avery.  
He knew that there had been something wrong with Darryl.  
"What?" he mumbled into the darkness of their bedroom.  
"I think I felt something," she said quietly, and James sat up, excitedly. With a swish of his hand, he turned on the light of the room, and touched Lily's cold stomach. She was smiling to herself, and she bit her lip.  
"Can you feel it?" she asked.  
"No," James said truthfully, "I think that you're imagining it. I don't feel anything."  
Lily's face dropped, and she sighed. She covered her stomach again with her nightgown, and waved her wand to shut off the light, "How can they be so sure that it's really in there?"  
"Because it is," James said, "Just look at you. You're already bulging a little."  
Lily snorted, and turned her back to James to lay down again.  
"Lily?" he said, after a beat. Lily muttered a "what?" and James lay back down on his pillow to stare at the ceiling. It was white, with little chips caked onto the paint. It was supposed to look artistic. It just made it look like someone had walked on their ceiling before it had been dried.  
"What if something happens to us?" he asked, "What's going to happen to our baby?"  
"I'm sure Sirius and Remus and Peter would take it in," Lily said.  
"But they don't all live together," James said, "And we can't force it upon all of them. And think of what sort of damage that would do to it, having those three as fathers?"  
Lily laughed out loud, and then said, "So what are you proposing?"  
"We find a godfather," James said.  
Lily nodded in agreement, and then turned to face him, "Good idea. And I know just the man to take the job."  
"Sirius," James said, happily taking her hand. But Lily's smile turned to a frown. James didn't notice in the dark that his wife's expression was one of pure doubt, "Sirius would raise my son or daughter just like it was his own. He's the one that I could trust. Remus is incapable of having any contact with another person that he'd have to have as a father, and Peter . . . well, Peter is Peter . . ."  
"True," Lily said, "But . . ."  
"Sirius is my brother," James said, looking into her eyes, "And I know that he'd do anything for me."  
"But he's not Catholic," Lily said, sitting up, "He has no religion at all . . ."  
"Why does that matter?"  
"Well, to be a godfather, you need to be Catholic . . ."  
"Nah," James said, shaking his head, "He could lie . . ."  
  
Lily snorted, "It would be sort of a stretch, James. You know he hates anything to do with church."  
"But he would do anything for me," James repeated, "Including that," he saw his wife's look of nervousness, and put his arm around her, "Sirius is a good man, Lily. I know he's . . . a little . . . a little difficult sometimes, but he really is a responsible person. And he's intelligent. And he knows what to do and what not to do . . ."  
  
"All right, fine," Lily said, laying back down in her bed, "I'm too tired to argue with you. Fine. He's the baby's godfather. But you're asking him. Not me."  
"Fair enough," James said, and then lay back down next to her.  
Tomorrow he would ask Sirius. 


	90. Chapter 89: The Godfather

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The Ministry of Magic was filled that morning, with all sorts of wizards and witches coming and going, up and down the elevators and into the front hall, where that beautiful statue of the witch and wizard, in harmony with the elf and the goblin, and centaur, stood. James knew that it must have been a joke. A centaur, or at least what he had learned about them, would not be smiling if they were within a mile of a human. Let alone in harmony with them.  
The second floor was where Sirius would be. He assisted the Aurors in their offices, and had become sort of a pet to Frank and Moody. They let him work on a lot of his assignments, and Sirius, in James's point of view, outranked most of the true Aurors in battle. But Sirius was too young, and hadn't gone to the schooling, therefore he had no chance of becoming one in the near future. It stung Sirius, he knew. It's all that he dreamed about as a child.  
But they hadn't turned out like what their boyhood selves wanted to be. James wasn't a lone-free Quidditch player, touring Europe and his face all over the magazine covers. And Sirius wasn't a lone-free bachelor saving the world from evil Dark wizards . . .  
Wait.  
All right, so it had only been James that hadn't fulfilled his boyhood fantasies.  
This didn't make him feel any better.  
He felt himself stepping into the elevator, and being shoved about by the official-looking workers in their work robes and suitcases. He felt out of place in his street clothes, and sheepishly looked to the businessmen and women, a mischevious smile on his face. None of them knew him. None of them cared to know him.  
He didn't recognize any of them.  
If he had been a Quidditch player, they would have recognized him.  
"Oh, James Potter!" they would scream, "Can I have your signature? It's Potter! The Seeker for the Cannons! They actually won the cup last year, all because of him!"  
Sadly that wasn't the case, and he felt his legs carrying him out of the elevator, and into the Auror office filled with the cubicles.  
"Hey, James!" a man said from his chair, "How's it going with the wife?"  
"Good," he replied, as another Auror took him by the neck, swinging his arm around his shoulders.  
"Catch the game last Sunday down in Catchpole?" he asked him.  
"No," James said, truthfully, "Sort of busy."  
  
"Heard about the baby, Potter!" another voice sounded from across the room, "Congrats from the wife and me!"  
"James?" Sirius said, coming out from a backroom, wearing his best wizarding robes. James would have thought he'd gone straight if he hadn't seen his biker boots protruding from underneath the pinstriped cloak. But he still had to laugh at him.  
"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked, as his friend drew closer, "You don't work here."  
"No, really?" James said, greeting Sirius as they slapped hands, "I need to talk to you about something. A favor."  
"A favor?" Sirius returned his laugh, and led him into the office in the back where he had emerged from. It read "FRANK LONGBOTTOM" in large gold letters on the door.  
"He's important," James commented as Sirius shut the door behind him, and James was let into a dark, but spacious, office. There was a desk, with pictures lined on the top. Frank and Alice. Alice and Frank. Alice. Some more of Alice. An old woman who he didn't recognize, behind the smiling faces of Alice and Frank.  
"Yeah, well, when you're a war hero, they tend to give you better workspace," Sirius said, leaning up against his desk. He still looked ridiculous in that pinstriped suit. James wondered how much Frank had to pay him to get him to wear it out in public. Sirius looked so out of place in it.  
"So what sort of favor are you asking from me?" Sirius asked as James took a seat in one of the large leather chairs. James sighed, mussed his hair, and smiled.  
"Lily and I have been talking," he said.  
"And you have to come visit me at work?" Sirius asked, and crossed his arms, "What happened? Don't tell me you're already divorcing her."  
"No," James started, "No, not at all. But we've been talking . . . and . . . well, Sirius, do you know what a godfather is?"  
"Not really," Sirius said, "Isn't that some sort of fairy tale rubbish or something?"  
"No, Sirius," James said, sighing. This was going to be harder than he thought, "A godfather is a person, in the Catholic religion, that is there at the baptism of the child and speaks for them. They accept our ways for the child, since the child is too young to make that decision. And then, if the parents are . . . unable . . . to uphold their duties of bringing up the child, then the godfather takes over both as the legal guardian, and as the one that has to lead the child through accepting Christ and the Catholic religion."  
"You rehearsed this, hey?" Sirius smiled, and James let out a rattling breath.  
"Yeah, I did," James said.  
"And why are you explaining this whole thing to me?" Sirius asked. James shrugged.  
"Well, we were sort of hoping that you would be my child's godfather," he said weakly.  
Sirius's expression was torn between joy and fear, and soon James could see that he was struggling to focus on him. His mouth dropped open, and a small laugh escaped.  
"James, I . . . I'm really not a religious person, James," Sirius said, "I think I'm the last person on Earth that you want raising your Catholic kid. Really, I hardly could stand to say Grace at your house when I would come over . . ."  
"That isn't what I'm worried about," James said, "I just want to know that someone would take care of my son or daughter if something happened to me."  
  
"But that's not going to happen," Sirius said, becoming defensive, "There's no possible way that that's going to happen."  
  
"But if it did," James plowed on, "I need someone to be there for my baby. I need it to have a father. And I know that he . . . or she . . . would be lucky to have you there for him . . . or her."  
"Of course I would be there for him . . . or her," Sirius added, with a tint of disgust in his voice, "Of course I'd take care of . . . it. You shouldn't even have to ask about that. I'd treat him just like you."  
"Then God help him," and then James added quickly, "I mean, it."  
"So what do I have to do?" Sirius asked jokingly, "Get baptised? Become a good Catholic?"  
"Actually," James said slowly, "Yes, you do."  
  
Sirius's eyes shot out of his sockets, and his jaw hit the floor, "What the hell?"  
"Well, you have to be of the religion to be a godfather," James said, "It's how the rules go."  
"Jesus," Sirius said, "Do you understand that I think I've broken like . . . every sin on that one stone?"  
"There were two," James sighed, "And they were slates."  
  
"Right," Sirius said, nodding, "Okay. Slates. And what are slates?"  
James buried his face in his hands, "Sirius, now when my mother gave you that Bible for Christmas, did you read it?"  
"Some of it," Sirius admitted, "The part about Christmas, and the beginning. And that part about the big boat and all of the animals?"  
"You mean the ark?"  
"Kanzuhntieht," Sirius muttered, walking to the bookshelf, and taking a worn book off of the shelf, "This is a Bible that Frank has. Lemme see. I'll get it all memorized and be ready for the baptism soon enough."  
"Well, you really don't have to memorize it, Sirius," James said, "I don't even have it memorized."  
  
"What? Church goer James doesn't have the Bible down word for word?" Sirius tutted, "Oh, your mother must have hated you."  
James narrowed his eyes, and stood to face him, "Look, all you have to do is act semi-intelligent and give yourself to the religion. Just go there, let them do their thing, and you'll be in the clear. You don't have to know anything about it. Just do as they say, and nod your head when they ask you a question. All right?"  
"You're not coming with me?" Sirius said, looking jolted.  
"I can't," James said, "I have your meeting with the priest scheduled for this evening, and I have to take Lily to the Healer's . . ."  
"TONIGHT?" Sirius barked, "YOU SET IT FOR TONIGHT?"  
"Yeah," James said, taking the Bible from Sirius and placing it on the shelf, "Tonight. You're to be there at six. Here's the address," he dug a piece of paper out of his pocket, and handed it to him, "The same church that we got married in. Just don't freak out on them, all right? Go along with it, and let them tell you what to do."  
"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said, staring at the paper like it was his last sin of them all, "Sure. Whatever you want."  
"Thank you so much," James said, and then headed for the door, "And remember," he said, "If they start talking in Latin, just nod your head and pretend like you understand every word they're saying."  
And then James was gone. Sirius gulped, and looked down at the sheet again. Oh, wouldn't this be fun? 


	91. Chapter 90: The Son of James Potter

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The Healer's office was cold, and made of white tile. It smelled of potions, and James was sorely remembered of Professor Snorks on the first day of school. They were waiting, Lily was quietly sitting next to him, fidgetting with her long hair. She looked scared. They didn't know why the Healers had called them back to talk to them. They had only been here a week before, and now they had returned for some unknown reason.  
"Do you think everything's all right?" Lily asked nervously, as James's foot tapped the tile below. There was tile above. And tile on the walls. What sort of person had tile on the walls?  
"I'm sure it is," James said, taking her hand, "It's probably perfectly fine."  
"But then why did they call us back?" Lily said, her voice cracking, "Only if something was truly wrong . . ."  
  
"They would have told us before calling us here," James said, "It's probably just some sort of testing they have to do."  
Lily didn't answer, and let out a deep rattling breath. She hated this. What was going on in her stomach? What was the matter? Was it all right? Was the baby all right?  
Had she done something wrong? Had she been a bad mother? Had she messed up her baby before it was even born? She hadn't drunk anything alcoholic, not even at the party. And she didn't smoke. She hadn't fallen. What had happened?  
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?"  
James and Lily looked up, and saw their Healer standing in the doorway, smiling. Okay, good. She was smiling. That was a good sign. The Healer was smiling. Nothing could be wrong then.  
"Follow me, please," she said. She was a smaller woman, very skinny and hardly any fat on her at all. Her white coat seemed gigantic on her. But her bright face smiled up at the two as they entered the back room where an examination table was set up for Lily. Lily sat on it, and James stood next to her, holding her hand. They were both so nervous.  
The Healer took her own seat across from them on a chair, and pulled out her charts. She then brandished a quill and started to write in some of the worst handwriting that either of them had seen.  
"James and Lily Potter, am I right?" she asked.  
"Yes," James said bravely.  
"Well, we have good news for you," the Healer said, and smiled warmly again, "We can tell you what sex your child is. If you would like to know."  
"You can tell this early?" Lily asked.  
"You can tell at all?" James added.  
"We have charms that allow us to create an illusion of your child before he or she is born. In case you are curious in who's eyes they received, what sort of color hair they have, or what gender they are," the Healer continued, "We can create this illusion for you if you wish."  
James and Lily stared at her, and then to each other, "Is this what this whole thing's about?" Lily asked frantically.  
"Yes," the Healer said, "We thought you may want to take advantage of the charms. They are fairly new . . ."  
"Of course!" James said, "Of course we will!"  
"Would you like to know the sex before seeing it?" she asked.  
Lily nodded, and James followed her lead, "Sure."  
"It's a boy," the Healer said, and then her smile returned, "Congratulations," she added, and then left the room.  
Lily and James looked at each other in pure joy. James was smiling so broadly. He was going to have a boy! A boy!  
"I can't believe it," Lily said, "Everything's all right. Everything's going to be all right."  
  
"And it's a boy!" James said, hugging her. She laughed, and returned the embrace.  
"Harry, then," Lily whispered happily in his ear, "Harry Potter?"  
James stopped, and then solemnly nodded, letting her go, "Yeah," he said, "Harry Potter."  
"Harry James Potter?"  
"Yeah," James smiled widely, and the Healer re-entered the room, holding her wand out.  
"All right, here we go," the Healer said, and pointed the wand to the floor in front of them. Lily and James were still in each other's arms as the small woman said a few words, flicking her wrist, and soon, there was a glow of light from where she had directed the spell.  
The light magically grew, and quickly began multiplying in front of their eyes. The lights danced around, finding their places in the figure that was now appearing, and James found himself staring at the boy in front of him, his mouth wider than Sirius's had been.  
In the glowing of the light, stood a boy identical to him. His hair fell messily into his face, and his nose was a little different. And the boy was a little younger, and shorter . . . but other than that . . . it was James.  
Lily gasped, and gripped James's hand, "It's him!" she whispered, "It's our son!"  
"It's me," he said.  
But then, he looked at the eyes. They were Lily's. Someone had taken her eyes and plastered them over his hazel ones. Those emerald green eyes peered out from behind the messy hair as the boy smiled at them happily. He had Lily's smile. His mischevious and arrogant way of standing. He was thin, and would make a great Quidditch player.  
And James would be there at every one of his games. He would make sure of it. He would be there, cheering him on. And during off-season, during the summer when his son was home, he'd teach him all of the how-tos of flying. He would be the best player of them all. Even better than James.  
It was Harry. This happy, healthy, and smiling boy in front of them. It was Harry that they would grow to love and know. And James would always be there for him. And he would treat him like he did Sirius and Remus and Peter.  
God, his son would love his friends. They were going to teach him everything about the world. About what mistakes not to make, and which ones to make. Where the entrances to Hogsmeade and the castle were. And at night, James would curl up by the fire with Lily and tell their son all about how they had met, about how they had fought Voldemort first hand, and their son would love them.  
They would be a family.  
"Now this is only a composite outline of him," the Healer explained, "It does not include any glasses, hearing devices, injuries that he may obtain while living. But a blueprint, if you will," she grinned at James, "He looks very much like you, Mr. Potter."  
  
"But he has his mother's eyes," James said in awe, and Lily could be seen with one tear rolling down her face. It was her son.  
She would cook him breakfast in the morning. She would teach him everything that there was to know about life. She would be there to protect him. No matter what.  
And then slowly, the lights disappeared, and the boy named Harry was gone. James and Lily were let out of the back room, and set free into the tile waiting room again.  
But James could still see that face of Harry in front of him. It was his. It was his son. That boy was his son.  
And he was a father.  
  
Sirius barged into the house, without saying a word to Lily, who tried to take his coat at the front door. His entire head was sopping wet, and he had a burn mark on his good cloak.  
"WHERE IS HE!?" he roared, and Lily pointed a finger up the stairs. Sirius didn't hesitate.  
He charged up the staircase, jumping four at a time, until he reached the second landing.  
"JAMES!" he barked, and James could be heard coming out into the hallway.  
"What?" he asked, "What's wrong?"  
Lily sighed, and shut the door quietly as she heard the two men's voices from upstairs.  
"THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!" Sirius's tone rang through the walls, "THEY SHOWED ME WHAT THEY'RE GOING TO DO! THEY TRIED TO DROWN ME!"  
"They are not going to try to drown you!"  
"Were you there? No! So how would you know? You wouldn't!"  
"I've been baptised, Sirius, and it isn't a major operation," James argued, "They're just going to baptise you, Padfoot. They were drowning . . ."  
"I knew I didn't like church for a reason. The one time that I give it a chance, I get burned, and . . ."  
"How did you get burned?"  
"That clown in the robes made me trip into a candelabra, and . . ."  
Lily groaned, and walked into the kitchen so she couldn't hear the bantering of Sirius Black. She shut the door to drone out the noise, and it worked quite efficiently. The kitchen was silent, and perfectly clean. Just what she needed.  
The eyes of Harry had been the same as hers. It was truly her son. And he was beautiful. He looked so much like James. They could have been brothers.  
She closed her eyes, and smiled to herself. She was a mother. It hit her head on now. She was a mother to a beautiful son. And wife to a beautiful man. After the war was over, life would be beautiful as well, and everything would be . . . perfect.  
She hugged herself, and tried to listen to the heartbeat of the child inside of her. Maybe if she listened close enough, she could make it out.  
The doorbell rang, and her eyes snapped open. The shouting of the two upstairs continued, and she was left to answer the visitor's calling. She sighed, pulled her hair out of her face, and opened the door to walk into the parlor.  
The doorbell rang again, and she shouted, "Just a minute! I'm coming!"  
And what a surprise it was when she opened the oak door to reveal Frank Longbottom, along with Marlene and Alice. Peter was behind them, looking very shaken.  
"What's the matter?" she asked.  
"We need assistance immediately," Frank said, "Is James home?"  
  
"Yes, him and Sirius are upstairs," Lily said, "Are we being called in?"  
"Yeah," Marlene said, her face excited, "We've got some Death Eaters cornered. Crouch wants us all down there now."  
Sirius and James had stopped shouting, and were now on the steps behind Lily. Without saying another word, they grabbed their cloaks, and rushed past Lily.  
Lily made to go, but James pushed her back, and shook his head, "No, Lily. Remember Harry. You can't go. It's too dangerous."  
Lily glared, and then looked to Alice for support. None came, and therefore she reluctantly retreated back into the house, shutting the door behind Sirius and James.  
"Love you!" James said through the door, and Lily nodded.  
"I know," she whispered to herself, and her eyes trailed over to the table where her wand was sitting.  
She was not a house wife.  
She was a soldier. 


	92. Chapter 91: Fallen Soldier

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: This story is rated PG-13, therefore . . . you know the drill.)  
  
They had them cornered outside of a house, where another family had lived. The Death Eaters were all hiding in the shed, threatening things that no one could make out. But their voices shouted loudly to the outside world. Ministry officials had surrounded the shed, and all had their wands out. James, Sirius, and Peter followed Marlene, Alice, and Frank down the long road to the ditch in which the shed was situated, and took out their own wands.  
"We have you surrounded!" Moody's voice came from the side of the shack, "Come out with your wands on the ground and your hands up and we will give you all fair trials."  
"THE DARK LORD SHALL REIGN FOREVER!" a voice sounded from inside.  
"What do we think we have here?" Frank asked, joining Moody at his side.  
Moody shrugged, "There have been reports from neighbors that there were about six of them. Five males, one female."  
"Any of them identified?" Frank asked.  
"No," Moody said, "None of them."  
James looked to where the shed stood. It was almost shaking with energy, but no one was giving up. It was a standoff, and there was never going to be a winner. Just more bloodshed.  
"You are under arrest!" Moody shouted to the doorway, "Come out, and we will have mercy!"  
"THE DARK LORD SHALL REIGN FOREVER!"  
"Marlene, James," Frank said, "I want you to go to that entranceway, and kick it down. We'll be right behind you."  
James and Marlene rushed forward, wands raised out in front of them. They took either side of the door, and Marlene nodded to James. The others watched as James took his foot to the door, and it collapsed into the darkness. Marlene went first, and then James. And then there was a shriek from inside. Sirius and Peter looked over the head of Frank to see what was happening, but no sound could be heard from inside. It had grown quiet, and only the lights of the spells could be seen through the small door opening.  
  
"Black, and Frank," Moody snarled, "Now you. Go now."  
But just then, there was a scream from inside, and a flashing green light. Sirius looked in horror to the door that now was illuminated in the color of death. It glistened in his eyes. Only one green shot had been given. Only one.  
One of the eight inside were dead.  
His heart stopped as he waited for the triumphant crowing of James, but none came. It was silent, and he and Frank stopped in their tracks, waiting for the next sign to come.  
And it came.  
Through the roof, and illuminating the night sky above the Auror's heads, came the sign of death. Came the sign of a fallen member. Came the sign of the skull and the snake.  
"James," Sirius said, breathless. James was dead. It couldn't be. It couldn't be true. James wasn't dead.  
"If the parents are unable to uphold their duties . . ."  
The conversation that him and his friend had that afternoon resounded in his ears. He was in charge of the child if James died. He was in charge of Lily.  
But James wasn't dead. He could never be dead. He was James.  
But there was the Dark Mark above them.  
"THE DARK LORD SHALL REIGN FOREVER!" a cackling voice came from inside, and Sirius felt numb. It wasn't true. It wasn't James.  
"Sirius!" Peter shouted, and Sirius pushed past Frank and Alice, but they both grabbed him with their large arms and thrusted him back into place.  
"Don't you move, Mr. Black," Moody snarled, and then stepped closer to the entrance, "We shall kill you if you do not surrender this instant! This is your last chance!"  
"ONE OF DUMBLEDORE'S KNIGHTS HAVE FALLEN!" a girl's high pitched voice cackled, "AND THEY WILL NEVER RISE!"  
Sirius lunged forward again, and Frank pushed him back, "Show restraint, Sirius," he warned, and Sirius glared at him.  
"My friend is in there," he shouted, "Get out of my way. Now."  
"Mr. Black . . ." Moody started, "If you cannot restrain yourself, then I will have to ask you to leave . . ."  
"Let him go, Mad-Eye," Frank interrupted him, and Moody's eye landed on him, "James has a family now."  
Moody's expression softened, and he nodded slowly, "Yeah," he said, "Get going."  
Sirius ran into the ditch that the Aurors were circling. He swore he could see Remus's face in the crowd, situated next to Gideon and Fabian. He knew that he was looking right at him. But he couldn't look back.  
James was in there.  
He reached the shed, and ducked inside. And the sight he saw was too much for him.  
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM!" Sirius shouted, raising his wand to a Death Eater that was holding James by the neck on one of the walls. James struggled, and Sirius saw that he was unarmed. The Death Eater turned to Sirius, and the cold expressionless face of the mask stared back at him. This one was the last one standing. The other six had been Stunned in a struggle that had taken place, and now it was only the three of them.  
"S- Sir . . ." James choked as the Death Eater's hands wrung his throat, "Siri . . ."  
The Death Eater took out his wand, and aimed it right at Sirius.  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Sirius shouted, and the Death Eater was hit with a green light protruding from Sirius's wand. And then he was still. Sirius had killed him.  
James slid down a few feet until his feet touched the ground again, gasping and choking. He held his reddened throat in his hands, and fell to his knees.  
"You . . . you killed . . ." he said in a raspy voice. Sirius ran to him, jumping over the body of the dead masked man, and helped him up.  
"Where's Marlene?" he asked, "What happened?"  
James, still holding his throat with one hand, pointed a shaky finger at a lifeless body in the corner. Sirius turned, and his expression grew cold.  
There lay Marlene McKinnon, in her youth, dead.  
Marlene was dead.  
"Come on," James said, running for the entrance, his voice still raspy, "Let's get them in here before they wake up."  
"Wait," Sirius said, and James turned to look at him. Sirius was staring at the body of the little Irish girl. She had been so full of life just minutes ago. And now she was dead. She had wanted to avenge her father. And she had failed. She had been one of the best. If the best could be killed, then how could he survive?  
Slowly, he stumbled over to Marlene's body, and knelt down beside it. It had been a short battle. But it had been long enough to kill her.  
But James was alive.  
And without another thought, he took Marlene by the arms, and hoisted her over his shoulders. Then he stood, and walked to the door.  
"Now we can go," he said, and James nodded.  
As they exited the shed into the wandlight of the Aurors, there was a large gasp from the crowd. Marlene was dead. They could all see that.  
A green tinge was still glistening off of her body.  
They had killed her.  
Sirius didn't look at Remus as he made his way up the ditch's side, and to Frank and Moody. James followed him, as he walked right past the two of them, and down the long road to where their Portkey lay.  
"Mr. Black, where do you think you're going?" Moody shouted, but Mr. Black didn't answer. He and his friend just kept walking to the small trash bin that lay at the end of the road. Marlene accompanied them.  
Alice was in horror and shock as she looked past her old friend. Now all of the McKinnons were dead. No one was left to avenge them. No one was left to kill off their murderers.  
In just a few seconds, the vengeful ploits of Marlene had been erased. And now they would never be filled.  
  
She looked so peaceful in the bed. She looked so . . . perfect. But she would never open her eyes. She would never move again.  
The Order had sent Dumbledore an owl, and he had sent an owl back, giving his regards and sympathies. He said that he would be returning to Headquarters tomorrow. Moody and Frank then sent out owls to Minerva, Hagrid, and all of the other members that hadn't been there that night.  
The four boys were rejoined that night, all sitting with Frank and Alice in the living room. Emmeline was bawling in the corner, and Dorcas was cracking her knuckles, blankly staring into the fire. Marlene . . . jovial Marlene . . . was dead.  
The idea kept running through Remus's head. He had seen Sirius emerge from that ditch with her body, slung over his shoulder. Moody was upstairs with Kingsley, making arrangements with the Ministry as they stood over her body. They had set her in one of the spare bedrooms for the time being. It had been the first time that any of them had died since the boys had joined. Well, of course there were the spies, but they hadn't known them. Marlene, they had known. It had only been two weeks ago that she had been sipping wine with them, laughing about Alice's baby and congratulating Lily. She had been so excited when Lily and James had gotten married.  
Remus felt sick. He closed his eyes, and tried not to show what he was feeling. Not in front of Sirius and James. They needed him to be strong. He was the responsible one.  
Well, he was sick of being the responsible one.  
Marlene had been an innocent little girl. Only a few years older than they were . . .  
But she was gone.  
Forever.  
Slowly, the hours drawled on, and they came for Marlene. They took her away to St. Mungo's, covered in a white sheet that made her look like a ghost. Alice and Frank followed the Healers there, and it was only the mingling four that remained. Emmeline had left, and so had Kingsley. And then Diggle. And Dorcas.  
Finally, Peter said that he needed to be somewhere, and took off. Then James had to go home to be with Lily and tell her what had happened. Remus was glad that he wasn't going to be there to see that scene. Lily and Marlene had been close. First she had lost Elise, and now her.  
So it was only Sirius and Remus, sitting in the living room, with Moody upstairs, rummaging around for something or other. Neither of them felt like leaving. So they sat there, in the cold darkness of the room, staring at the draining fire.  
"You know," Sirius said, "They made me Harry's godfather today."  
Remus's gaze shot up to look at Sirius. His brow furrowed, and his mouth opened to reveal an expression of confusion.  
"What?" he asked, "Who's Harry?"  
"Their son," Sirius said, leaning back on the couch, "They're going to have a son."  
"They didn't tell me that it was a boy," Remus said, "Are you sure?"  
"James told me today," he said, "They just came back from the Healer's when we got the call to go to the shed . . . he didn't mention it?"  
"Must have been preoccupied," Remus muttered, looking back at the fire. James didn't tell him anything anymore. Not ever since the Christmas party.  
"They said that that makes me Harry's guardian," Sirius said, and Remus gave him another look out of the corner of his eye.  
"You?"  
"Yeah," Sirius said, laughing, "Pretty cool, huh? Never thought that Lily'd let me even touch the kid."  
"I would have thought it was obvious," Remus said quietly, turning away again. Sirius as godfather. They hadn't even consulted him. Lily hadn't said anything. James hadn't even thought about . . .  
But then again, who would trust a werewolf with their baby? Remus thought bitterly.  
"Why do you say that?" Sirius asked, "I know that if I were James, I would never . . ."  
"He trusts you," Remus said, fighting back the urge to say more, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His robes were tattered and worn. He had no money. Sirius had a job. Sirius had a paying job.  
"And he trusts you, too," Sirius defended Remus, and leaned in towards him, coming closer, "What's wrong with you lately?"  
"Nothing is wrong with me," Remus said, shoving him away. Sirius shoved him back, and then sat back on the couch again.  
"I always thought they would have picked you for the responsible job," Sirius said, "I mean, it sort of came as a surprise. Sort of an honor, really. But I hope I never have to take care of him. I hope nothing ever happens."  
  
"Yeah," Remus said.  
Sirius eyed Remus suspisciously, and then added, "And if something was bothering you, you'd tell me, right? If something was up? If something was going on?"  
"Yeah," Remus said.  
Sirius nodded slowly, still examining Remus, and then standing up with an outtake of breath, "Well," he said, grabbing his cloak, "This night sort of puts things in perspective, doesn't it?"  
"Yeah."  
"But don't worry, Moony," Sirius said darkly, putting his cloak on, "We made a pact. None of that is ever going to happen to us."  
"I don't think I'm the one worrying, Sirius," Remus said coldly, and Sirius stopped.  
What did he mean?  
That wasn't like Remus. To snap back with a remark.  
And a remark like that?  
The dream of Remus, standing over his bed, raising his wand to kill him, resurfaced in his mind, and Sirius shook his head. No, he thought, It was just a stupid dream. It was ages ago. Remus isn't . . .  
Remus heard Sirius as he walked out of the room, into the entrance hall, and to the outside porch. He was alone. With only Moody.  
He sat there for what seemed like hours. And it must have been hours, because the sun rose again, and Moody's grunts came from the top of the staircase and made their way down slowly, holding his wand. Remus knew where he was going so early.  
He was going back to the memorial.  
He was going to add Marlene's name to the list.  
"You still here?" Moody's voice came from the hall, as he reached for his bowler hat.  
"Yeah," Remus said, not moving from his spot.  
"Long night, hey?" he asked, and Remus nodded, knowing that Moody could see well through walls.  
"Are you going to the memorial?" Remus asked quietly, and Moody coughed.  
"Yes, I am," Moody said, "She was a good girl. Died a heroic death. Died doing what was right," there was a hesitation in his voice as he opened the door, and then added, "Let's hope that you never have to add a name to that wall, hey?"  
"Yeah," Remus said, and then heard the door slam behind Moody. And he was alone.  
The house was silent for a few minutes as he sat there, trying to gather his thoughts. Everything had happened so fast. Lily and James, having a baby . . . naming it already . . . and Sirius . . .  
"Figures, though," Remus grunted, standing up, and looking at the hearth where the fire had died hours ago, "You know that it was bound to happen. James would give his life for Sirius."  
He remembered when it used to be easier. When he didn't have to wake up every day, wondering if he'd make it back to his bed the next night. Every day got harder. Every day, the weight was put onto his shoulders even more. The others were accepting their fate. But he could not. He would not.  
Look at you, the wolf said from inside, and Remus swallowed, You're so pathetic. By yourself, in this big house. Didn't you know that it wouldn't last forever? Didn't you know that you'd never be one of them?  
"Shut up," Remus muttered, and grabbed his shabby robe from the back of the couch. He was going to go for a walk. A long walk.  
He felt the wolf follow him out the door, and down the sidewalk, trotting next to him, glaring up at him with those eyes that were his own.  
And somehow you're surprised? The wolf continued to jeer, You remember what Peter said? About not being included? You knew what he was talking about.  
Remus didn't respond, and continued down the street, passing one suburban house after another. He wanted to just keep walking. Walking so far away that no one would ever find him, and he could start his life over again. Maybe he'd meet someone, and they could be together. And he could have a child of his own . . .  
But he knew that that wasn't possible.  
His name is Harry, he thought to himself, and the wolf laughed.  
Harry will fear you, he snarled in Remus's ear, Harry will hate you.  
It's a boy, Remus thought over the wolf's words, It's James's son. He won't hate me. He'll accept me. Just like they did.  
But they didn't accept you, the wolf hissed, They still haven't. They fear you. They know that you're smarter than they are. They know what you are. What you become. Do you not remember Lily's eyes that night that she met me? And what about James's? And Sirius's boggart? They have never accepted you. And neither will Harry.  
"Shut up," Remus muttered again to himself, and he felt his lip tremble. God, he was pathetic. He was nineteen now, and fighting back tears in public. How did he get like this? He hadn't acted like this since he was just a little boy.  
He hadn't acted like this since he had met James.  
Well, they had grown up. People drifted apart. Who cared what people did in school together? Who cared if he had helped James on a Potions exam and let him cheat, or if James spent a good three years trying Animagi spells to accompany him? Who cared anymore? They were in the real world. James had Sirius and Lily. And now Peter more than ever.  
Remus just told the truth. Remus just told him the cold, hard truth. Remus didn't praise him and stick him on a pedastal. Remus didn't do that.  
That's why James hadn't chosen Remus.  
Sirius gave him all of the accolades he wanted. That's why he had chosen Sirius. Good ol' Sirius, there to go digging him into trouble. Black and Potter, best friends. Black and Potter, the best of brothers. Black and Potter.  
And their two friends, the bookworm and the pudgy boy.  
He crossed the street, and the wolf followed. The wolf would always follow. They were bound to each other, for eternity. Never could they escape the other.  
Ahead was a beautiful park that was much different than the one in London. It was smaller, and greener. Not as foreboding as the one in which James saved his life in . . .  
That was right. James had saved his life.  
He was in debt to him.  
He entered the park, and sat down on one of the benches. If something did happen to James and Lily, and something happened where Sirius had to take Harry in . . .  
How many more nights until I'm free, Remus? The wolf asked his victim, curling up at Remus's feet. Remus didn't answer.  
It was because of this creature that they didn't trust him. This was the reason for all of his troubles. If only he hadn't gone into that forest that night. If only he hadn't gotten bitten by that man . . . then he would be free.  
He remembered the Centaur's Field, when everything was pure and clear in his mind.  
The wolf was getting stronger anymore. The wolf was growing. He could hear him all the time. Remus knew it was because of the stress he had been through. And Lily being pregnant hadn't helped his situation.  
The wolf fed off of his fear.  
What was he going to do? 


	93. Chapter 92: The Most Important Vow

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
A knock came at the door, and Sirius yawned. He had been sleeping, trying not to think about what had happened the night before. Every time he woke up, he saw Marlene's body in front of his eyes. That's why he wanted to keep them closed as long as he possibly could.  
Not to mention that he had had another dream about Remus. Remus was holding his wand out to that Sampson man. And he was saying those fatal words, that man had fallen.  
"The werewolf killed Sampson!" the voice had rang.  
The werewolf.  
The knock came again, and Sirius groaned. He couldn't go out right then. He was in no mood to answer the door. He knew it would be one of the Order members, coming to tell him about the arrangements of Marlene. Or another Ministry official coming to ask him exactly what happened.  
He had seen Remus's eyes. Remus hadn't wanted to talk to him last night.  
But then again, Remus hadn't talked to anyone for a while.  
The person knocked again.  
God.  
"Shut up," he groaned, and rolled over in his bed.  
"Sirius, are you in there?"  
It was James.  
"What!" Sirius moaned, coming to stare at the ceiling on his back. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to get up.  
"It's Sunday, Sirius," James's voice came through the door, "Get up!"  
"I know perfectly well what day it is!" Sirius shouted, and then covered his head with his pillow.  
The spell "Alohomora" was whispered from behind the locked door, and soon James's footsteps could be heard coming through the kitchen and to where Sirius lay, sprawled out on the bed.  
"You have mass!" James said, "And it starts in twenty minutes! Get dressed!"  
"Mass?" Sirius yawned, "Why is that important?"  
"You have to go!" James said, "The priest is expecting you! Now put this on," he said, taking out Sirius's pinstriped robe out of his closet and flinging it at him, "This will look nice enough. And no biker boots."  
"No biker . . . wait, James, I'm not . . ."  
"Oh, yes, you are," James said, taking Sirius's arm and pulling. His face skidded across his pillow, and finally his torso fell off of the bed, headfirst, legs following.  
Sirius rubbed his head, but still refused to stand.  
"Padfoot," James said, now pleading, "Look, you have less than a half an hour to get dressed, drive to the church, and get seated. You have to wake up."  
"It's Sunday," Sirius muttered.  
James kicked him, and Sirius gave out a laugh, "What the hell was that for?"  
"For being you," James said, and took the robe off of the bed, and threw it at him, "Now put that on. Now."  
Sirius groaned, sat up, and took the wrinkled pinstriped suit and draped it over his head. He yawned, and stretched his arms.  
"You really are a violent person, I hope you know that," Sirius said, giving a small grin from behind his messy hair.  
"Get up," James demanded, "Lily's waiting outside. We're going out to eat after mass."  
"You're coming with me?" Sirius said, standing up, "Oh, well then . . . I can show you what sort of torture devices they have lurking in there."  
James sighed, shook his head, and pushed Sirius out of the room, "Get going."  
  
The mass was boring. Sirius felt himself yawning, feeling very out of place. He stood when James and Lily stood, prentended to sing when they pretended to sing (except Lily actually sung, since her voice was very beautiful and rich), and sat when they sat. He swore that he was going to die.  
After the mass, Father Such-and-Such from the church came to speak with him and James and Lily. He had a small little white square on his neck, and Sirius kept staring at it with the utmost fascination. He had seen them before, since Mrs. Potter had dragged him to church when he was younger. But he was a lost cause.  
"And our young friend here will be joining our church very soon," Father Such-and-Such said, patting Sirius on the back with one of his knarly hands. A shiver crawled down his spine, and he gave a weak smile as James led him out of the church and back onto the street.  
"Ah, and now to eat," Sirius said, rubbing his hands together, "Where're we going?"  
  
The Leaky Cauldron was still very musty in the morning, even if the tobacco smokers and the liquor drinkers hadn't arrived for their daily ritual. Tom was dressed in his very Sunday best, and quickly opened up the shop for the three to enter and order a round of pancakes and tea.  
"Ah, now this is what I call a Sunday morning," Sirius commented, sitting down at their usual table in the corner, "We can speak in English, keep seated, and know what the hell we're doing."  
Lily took James's hand, and Sirius didn't flinch. He had stopped flinching long ago. Lily's robes were very tight around her stomach, and Sirius could see that the child was growing. Soon it would come. Harry. His name was Harry.  
"We just wanted to get everything figured out with you this morning," James said, "You know, with Harry and you being his godfather. We wanted to make sure that you knew what you were getting into."  
"I don't care what I'm getting into," Sirius said, "If I can survive baptism, I can survive anything."  
"It means that you would be a father, Sirius," Lily said, "If we somehow don't make it through this war, and you do . . . it means that you would have a son."  
"All right," Sirius said, nodding, "I know. But that's not going to happen."  
"There's a good chance that it could," James said truthfully, "You heard what Moody said to Frank. We're all going to come out of this with some sort of scar. I mean, we already have some."  
"I'm perfectly fine," Sirius said.  
"None of us are perfectly fine," James said, looking him square in the eyes. He was picking at the slivers on the table again, "Peter's getting scared of his own shadow, Remus is quieter than usual, and you . . ."  
"What about me?" Sirius asked slowly, yet still demanding. James shrugged, and then looked back at the table. He began to pick at a sliver in the tabletop.  
"The main thing is that we want to make sure that you know what you're doing," Lily said, "You'll be a father," she said a little louder.  
"I know," Sirius said, and Lily's left eye twitched slightly. It was like she half-expected him to say no.  
"We want him to be raised in our religion," James said.  
"No, you don't say," Sirius said.  
"Please take this seriously, Padfoot," James said, looking at him, and Lily's eye twitched faster.  
"Let's just make up a scenario," James continued, "Let's just say that we go out like last night, and I get killed. It could have easily been me, Sirius."  
"Don't say that," Sirius said quieter, darker.  
"But it could have," James said, "Now listen. If that happened, I'd want you to move in with Lily, and take care of her and Harry. I would hope that you could love them like your own wife and son. You have to promise me this, Sirius. I can't keep going out there, sticking my neck out, and knowing that if something happens, my family is going to be abandoned."  
"They won't be abandoned," Sirius's face had gone dark, and very determined. Lily studied him carefully. James had been right about him being responsible. She would have never guessed that this man, who still had the emotional maturity of an eleven-year-old and no morals that she was aware of . . . that that man could sit there, in front of them, and swear off his life for a baby he hadn't even seen yet. Sirius would do anything for James.  
All of a sudden, her face became bright, and all doubt floated away. This truly was the right man to take care of her son.  
"And if we both are unable to take care of Harry," James said, as Sirius gave Lily a glance out of the corner of his eye, and Lily quickly looked away, "Then you'd have to move into our house, and have complete access to a bank account in my name. You would only be able to use this money for Harry or for Harry's well being. We would like you to settle down with a wife, if there was any possibility, but I can't dictate your life to you. But that's what we would want."  
"Any preferences on who the wife would be?" Sirius laughed, smiling. James grinned, and shrugged.  
"Okay, moving on," James said, "Then we want him to go to Hogwarts. All right? Hogwarts. No where else."  
"Like I would think of putting him somewhere else," Sirius said.  
"And then you have to teach him to play Quidditch," James plowed on, "I don't care what position he plays, just as long as he plays Quidditch."  
"Can do," Sirius said, as the waitress handed them their pancakes. James nodded, and said as soon as the waitress had left, "I want him to be happy."  
"And he will be," Sirius said, very seriously, "But as I said, it's not going to happen. It won't. We made a pact, remember?"  
"And this is another pact," James said, "You have to make it to me. You'll protect my son. You'll let him be happy. You'll treat him like you'd treat me."  
Sirius, hesitating, nodded, and then picked up his fork, "I will."  
"You swear on your grave?" James asked.  
Sirius's face grew pale at the word "grave," but he nodded, and then started to dig into his pancakes, "Yes. I swear."  
Lily nodded to herself, and reached over the table to touch Sirius's hand. Her skin was so soft. Sirius's was darker, rougher . . .  
"Thank you," she said quietly, and Sirius nodded slowly.  
"You're welcome." 


	94. Chapter 93: Mother and Son

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Warning for readers under 13: This is rated PG-13 for scary moments and violence.)  
  
It seemed like winter flew away from them. The night of Marlene faded, the sounds of laughing from Christmas deafened, and the sight of snowflakes were blinded by the new sight of spring. It was a cycle that never faltered. Long after the war was over, whoever won, they would still be carried through life by the seasons. Voldemort couldn't even stop the seasons.  
Remus thought about this from the window of Headquarters as he waited for the meeting to begin. It was April. It was beautiful.  
What had he been doing a year ago? James and Lily had just gotten married two months prior. Probably on top of the world.  
Six months from this day he would be turning twenty. God, when had he gotten old.  
"Whatcha lookin' at, Moony?" Peter asked, peering his head over Remus's head of sandy brown and white hair to look out the window.  
"You see that bee?" Remus said, pointing at a small tulip sitting next to Moody's sill, "That bee relies on the flower for his food, and yet the flower relies on the bee for reproduction."  
"Really?" Peter asked, squinting from behind his large glasses, "I don't see anything."  
"They couldn't survive without the other one," Remus said, "They call it a mutual existence. It's funny how it's such a simple idea, and nature can follow it . . . and yet we can't. Humans are too complicated to have coexistence."  
Peter shrugged, "Well, would you rather be stupid than complicated?"  
Remus didn't answer, and just sighed and turned back from the window to look to the living room, where they sat. Waiting.  
Something had happened, he knew it.  
"Hey," Sirius said, sitting down on the other side of Peter. He had his motorbike jacket on. He loved that bike. He took it everywhere. Polished it. He probably had even named it.  
"Did you just get here?" Peter asked, turning to talk to him.  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "A little trouble with the cloaking device. Going to have to take it in again," he added offhandedly.  
Why doesn't he just get a new one? Remus thought to himself. But he didn't say anything. He just nodded in agreement, and made no comment.  
The room was slowly filling up. A chair had been removed from the rows and columns of twenty five, and had been replaced with an empty space. Alice and Frank avoided looking at that space as they walked to their seats.  
Remus had gotten there early. And then Peter had meandered in. Peter's job must have been going well, because he was wearing brand new robes and a new silver watch. Remus looked at his own robes. He had had them for about two years now. They were shabbier than ever.  
He looked back at Alice and Frank. Alice was getting large. Very large. She must be in her sixth month. Speaking of pregnancies . . .  
Where was Lily?  
"Are James and Lily here yet?" Remus asked quiet, composed. His voice didn't sound shaken. His face didn't seem haunted. He was Remus. Just the way he always was. They didn't know . . . didn't care . . . about the bees and the tulip outside . . . about how it still pained him that James hadn't talked to him civilly for a good four months. They had stopped caring a while back.  
Sirius looked at him, sort of surprised that Remus was talking, and nodded, "Yeah. They are. Why?"  
"Just wondering," Remus said, going back to the window to stare at the flowers. The dew of the morning was still set ontop of the petals, beautifully painted by nature. Perfection. Something that humanity would never have.  
"All right, all right," Moody said, making his way up to the front with Frank now behind him, "We have an emergency on our hands. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? The giants are crossing the English Channel as we speak."  
The loud muttering ran through the room, and Remus felt himself being tugged back into the room.  
"What?" Sirius barked, "That's not possible . . ."  
"Oh, it's very possible," Moody said.  
"Well, then let's get moving!" Sturgis said, starting to stand, "We've got to stop them . . ."  
"There is no possible way to stop the giants, Podmore," Frank said solemnly, "There are too many of them. By dawn tomorrow they'll be on our coast, and by evening on Wednesday, they'll be in the countryside."  
"There are hundreds of them," Moody said, "And they're all on Voldemort's side."  
"What is he planning to do with them?" Benjy asked. Benjy had grown, and so had everyone else. The children that had been recruited had grown. The men that had stood proud had tall had lost color in their hair. Sirius looked at Benjy quietly, slowly remembering what James had said. They all did have a scar.  
"What do you think, Fenwick?" Moody said bitterly, "Cause destruction, just like in France and Germany and all of the other places they had to stampede through to get to us. All of us are going to try to cut them off at the major ports on the eastern coast. We leave in an hour, and we will join the Ministry officials in an hour and a half. You all have sixty minutes to say your goodbyes and return to this room. This excludes you, Alice. And you, too, Mrs. Potter. I will not gamble the lives of your children for this. Frank, James, you are free to go."  
Frank nodded, and Remus scanned the room to see James. He found him, sitting next to a rather plump Lily, looking very determined. Lily looked horror stricken. Not at the fact that the giants were on the loose, or that her husband would be in combat in an hour or so, but at the fact that she would not be there with him. That was Lily, though. She never liked to get left behind.  
Frank gave a quick look to Alice, and then turned to Moody. Quietly, he said something aside to him, and then Moody nodded.  
"A wise choice, Longbottom," Moody snarled, and then looked to the rest of them, "As for the rest of you, we ship out."  
And then Moody left through the door leading into the entrance hall, leaving everyone in a state of shock. Frank walked to Alice, and embraced her. Remus knew what he had muttered to Mad-Eye. He would not be joining them.  
He's a father now, Remus thought, He has as much responsibility as Alice does.  
He looked back to James, who stood, helping Lily up. James kissed Lily's face, and then rubbed her stomach. Remus recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look that James had when he had ventured into the tunnel every month. And the same expression that he had when he signed the contract.  
Sirius stood, and he and Peter walked over to the group. Remus felt himself slowly following them, hiding behind the taller stature of Sirius. Sirius was growing his hair out again, he noticed. And Peter's hair was thinning already. How old was Peter now? His birthday had been in January. He must have been nineteen now.  
James and Lily acknowledged them as they drew forward, and Lily looked surprisingly at Remus.  
"Better get going then, hey?" Sirius said, putting an arm around Lily. Her eyes did not leave Remus, though.  
"Yeah," James said, and then gave Lily one more kiss, "Let's go."  
Remus stopped. Any sort of urge that he had had to apologize to James directly faded in an instant.  
"You're going?" he started.  
James looked at him, and his face fell, "Yeah, I am. It's my duty. I'm a member. I have to go."  
"Your duty is your family," Remus said quietly.  
Sirius and James gave Remus a look, and then James said, "And if I don't go, then there won't be any family to protect. I would appreciate it if you would stop making judgement calls on every little move that I make."  
Remus didn't answer, but watched him quietly from behind Peter. His thin lips were pursed into a firm line, and his brow was furrowed. Yet he did not say anything.  
"I'll see you soon," James said, grabbing his cloak from the back of the chair, giving Lily one last kiss, "We'll go out to dinner when I get back. I promise."  
Sirius gave Lily a reassuring slap on the back as James followed Peter and a mute Remus out of the room and after Moody.  
"Don't worry," he said, "I'll watch him. He'll be coming back."  
"I know," Lily said, returning the pat on Sirius's back, "I trust you."  
Sirius nodded, and then ran out of the room, pursuing the three boys that had gone before him. And Lily and the Longbottoms were left alone in the living room, watching the backs of their friends disappear from sight.  
  
The house was empty when Lily returned to it. She hadn't wanted to stay at Headquarters any longer. Frank and Alice had also gone home, and they had said that they would keep in touch with her until the group returned. They didn't know how long or short that would be. Or how many of them would return.  
She sighed, placing her wand on the front table in the entrance hall, and quietly, making her way into the living room, still toying with her scarf which she wore over the top of her cloak. Her stomach was bulging from underneath her clothes, and she could already feel the baby truly kicking now. It wouldn't be long until Harry arrived, and she could get back to her regular size. Her feet ached as she sat down with an "oof" in the chair in the parlor, and tried to reach for her feet to massage them. Her ankles were so swollen.  
But it was all worth it. She was going to have a child. She was going to be a mother.  
And James would be a father.  
Because James would return. And so would Sirius. And Peter and Remus. They would all come back. They wouldn't let any of each other die. They would keep themselves alive.  
They would be leaving soon. It had only been an half an hour ago that they had dispersed. They were probably all there already, but they still had an half an hour.  
She wondered what James was doing.  
She hated being at home. She should have been with them. She felt like a burden.  
  
How her father would hate her now, knowing that she was at home sitting on her rear end.  
She remembered his face when they told him about the baby. Petunia was pregnant herself, and married now to a man named Vernon. She had wanted their children to grow up being the closest of cousins, and she could imagine her and Petunia right now, sitting together in this room, laughing and conversing. Sadly, she knew that that would never happen. Petunia hated her.  
Her mother had thought her too young, but had supported her. And her father . . . oh, her father went through the roof. He said that she was throwing away all of her talent and all of her aspirations to become a housewife. Housewife was a curse word in her father's mouth, even if he had married one.  
Creak.  
A creak had come from the front door. Someone had opened it. Lily froze, and quietly stood. James wouldn't be back by now. Must be the Longbottoms.  
"Alice?" she called out, as she opened the door, "Are you okay?"  
But Alice wasn't there. The door was wide open, and exposing her to the winds outside. A thunderstorm seemed to have started.  
Lily felt a strike of fear as the lights flickered on and off, and finally failed.  
"Stupid storm," Lily said, reaching for her wand on the front table. Her hand searched in the darkness for it, but she couldn't find it. It was gone.  
Her heart beat faster in her heart, and she froze where she was. Someone was in her house. Something . . .  
"Don't move," a voice came from behind her, "Don't move a muscle. Or I'll kill you."  
Lily felt her own wand being jabbed into the back of her skull. Her eyes grew wide with horror, and she looked straight outside to the pouring rain. She could see the trees and the sidewalk, all being covered in puddles.  
She could make a run for it.  
"I come with a proposition from my master," the voice continued, "My master is very interested in your husband."  
"James . . ."  
"Now, think of this more of a threat than a choice," the stranger said, jabbing the wand closer into her skin, "My master doesn't like your kind. And he was very disappointed in your husband when he chose you for a bride. Yes, that's right. He knows all about you two. You must realize that my master will not let you live. You are a Mudblood, daughter to two filthy Muggles. Your child will be a half breed. Your husband weighed down by garbage like you as his wife. Therefore, we shall have to kill you."  
There was a quiet pause, as the attacker took Lily's hair in his hands, and wound it around his fingers, "Unless, you persuade your husband to join us. If my master gets what he wants, he will not kill you."  
"James will never turn," Lily said bravely, "Now let go of me."  
"I'm sorry, it isn't that easy," the voice came, "No one defies the Dark Lord. No one. Especially you, my little Mudblood."  
The wand slowly moved from the back of her head to her right temple, and she felt her blood become ice. She was going to die. And Harry along with her.  
No. That could not happen.  
That would never happen.  
Harry would not die.  
With a cry like a warrior, she dug her fingernails into the skin of her attacker, and grabbed the wand away from him. She kicked him down to the floor, and pointed her wand at him, her green eyes sparking with fire.  
"Avada Kedevra!" she screamed, and the green light shot out of her wand, and through the heart of the man. Slowly, the lights turned on again, and the attacker's face was revealed.  
His name was Wilkes. She recognized him immediately. His face was one that was plastered underneath Voldemort's all the time. One of the top supporters. She had killed Wilkes.  
She felt sick.  
Holding her mouth, she rushed past the dead body of the Death Eater, mask unseen, and up the stairs to the lavatory. She was going to lose all of her dinner.  
Leaning over the toilet, she shakily returned to a standing position, and pulled her hair out of her face. She had almost died. And Harry, too.  
God, this is what Moody meant.  
How could she have been so selfish?  
She looked at herself in the mirror, and saw that she was crying. There was a dead man in her entrance hall. Her and her son had almost died.  
  
Harry had almost died. 


	95. Chapter 94: Trelawney

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The rain poured down on the Hog's Head that night. He could still remember it well. It was foggy, and a quiet rushing of water could be heard throughout the streets. Hogsmeade was completely deserted, overtaken by war and fear. Who knew if a dementor was lurking in a corner of the street, or a Death Eater in an alley or doorway. And yet an older man ventured forth into the storm to meet his appointment at the run down inn that only could be described as sickening.  
Sibyll, she called herself. Sibyll Trelawney. Some sort of relation to a true Seer, and the old man was very interested in possibly maybe saving the art of Divination at Hogwarts. He was the Headmaster after all, and school had to be taken care of, no matter what his other obligations called for him to do. The next generation was their only hope, and therefore, they must prepare them for what lay ahead.  
Divination had been a disappointment to Albus all of these years, and he thought it was quite clear that there was no possible way that the class could continue without a true Seer. Their last teacher had been a complete fraud, and now . . . if this Sibyll woman was . . . he was tired of the entire program.  
"I've heard of Trelawney," Minerva had warned him, "And she's the crackpot to top them all, I assure you."  
But Dumbledore wanted to give this woman ample chance. Therefore, he was meeting here in this God-forsaken inn.  
Opening the door, he stepped into the warm, dry air of tobacco and liquor, and made his way up the stairs without stopping to say hello to anyone or smile a warm smile to the barmaids. He was here on business, and wanted to leave as soon as possible.  
Up the stairs, and into the dark, dank corridor of the second floor. Inn doors surrounded him on either side, and he felt somewhat light headed from the tobacco drifting through the air above his head. She had told him in her last owl that she would be found in room four. Room four would be off to his right, he realized, as he made his way through the hall.  
He had a meeting with Moody and Frank after this. They had to speak about certain matters that pertained to certain subjects. Very quiet.  
Only one other person in this corridor. A hooded man that stepped into room three. He had a key. He belonged in this place easily enough. Still, he gave Dumbledore a shiver up his spine. It took much to make that happen, seeing that Albus was not the type to be frightened easily.  
Room four. Albus sighed, hearing Minerva's voice in his ear ("It is a waste of your time and energy, Albus"). But he would never know if he didn't see this woman. So he rapped on the door.  
It was a moment before he heard any sorts of noise from within. Finally, a whispy and magical voice came from behind the oak wood door. It sounded sweet and sour at the same time, and he could almost make out a faded Cockney accent from behind the upperclass and mystical tone of the woman.  
"Who calls to me from behind the door? Is it a spirit, or is it the living?"  
"It is Albus Dumbledore, my good woman," Albus answered back, adjusting his half-moon glasses, "We have an interview."  
"Ah," the voice came again, and then he heard the quiet patter of bare feet on the wooden floor beyond the number 4 hanging on the oak in front of his eyes. The woman fumbled with the knob, and the door opened to reveal one of the oddest sights Albus had ever seen.  
Standing in front of him, was a woman that could have passed for a medieval gypsy. She was younger, possibly in her late twenties, and donned with ever color scarf imaginable. Her curly black hair flew wildly around her face, and her deep eyes were magnified by her gigantic glasses. Shawls covered her shoulders, and her dress swept the dirt-ridden floor, covering her bare feet. Necklaces and bracelets and large hoop earrings were sported as jewelry as her mistified voice bid a "hello" to Albus.  
"Sibyll Trelawney, I presume?" Albus asked, extending his hand.  
"Ah, yes," Sibyll said, shaking his hand flirtingly, "It seems that you too have the Eye, my good sir. To know my name before it was given is a sign of a true Seer."  
"We talked through owl mail, Miss Trelawney," Albus said, letting himself in, "We have a meeting this evening, I presume that you did not forget?"  
"A . . ." Sibyll caught herself as she shut the door, "Ah, of course not! A true Seer does not forget a single memory. Our minds are sharp, and always aware of everything. You must excuse me. I was having a vision of an older man in the rain, walking into the Hog's Head, just before you arrived. After my visions, I am always a little . . . light headed. The spirits and powers take their toll on my mind every time that I use them."  
The inn room smelled of inscence, and Dumbledore took a seat on an old wooden chair, covered in more scarves. Candles burned from every corner of the room, and a glass ball was set in front of a rug, in which Sibyll sat herself upon, looking directly into Albus's eyes. She seductively pushed her hair out of her face, and then in her low and whispy voice, said, "You are in dire need of a new professor at your school of witchcraft and wizardry, I believe. Yes, that is why you have come."  
"Yes," Albus said, knowing perfectly well that it had all been written out in their exchange of owls, "I was hoping that I could witness a vision tonight. How many visions have you Seen that have become true, may I ask?"  
"Visions?" Trelawney said, faltering, and then blinked, "Ah! Yes! Visions! Well, too many to count! The Eye is a curse, I tell you. Every night I cannot stand laying myself down to rest, in fear that I may see an impending death or a possible crime . . . Oh, it is a test of my wits every time that the Eye Sees."  
"Who was your last employer?" Albus asked.  
"Well," Trelawney said, "Seers are not always taken for the gifts that they are to this world. In fact, many Muggles fear us more than wizards . . ."  
"Could you answer my question, Miss Trelawney?" Albus asked, growing impatient. Trelawney jumped, and gave a sheepish grin.  
"Well, actually, Albus, I am currently employed here," Sibyll said, "I am a waitress, and they give me free room and board. But sadly they're letting me go . . . Actually, they have already let me go . . . About a month ago . . . But they still don't know I'm living here. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to them when you left the bar . . ."  
"Were you ever employed as a Seer?" Albus asked quietly, and Trelawney didn't have to answer his question for him to know the answer.  
"Would you care for me to read you palm?" Trelawney asked, floundering, "Or tarot cards? Or . . . even gaze into my crystal ball and tell you of your past, present, and future?"  
Albus didn't answer, and the woman coughed, and leaned over her ball. Dramatically, she thrust her hands into the air, and cleared her throat as she waved them above the crystal orb.  
"Oh, spirits of time," she whispered, "Come to me. Tell me what you see! Tell me of this man's past."  
The ball did not respond to her, and still stood, unmistified, and untouched. Albus raised a brow, but did not comment on her lack of success. Trelawney turned a bright red as she waved her hands over the ball again, and then faked a grin.  
"Ah, yes!" she whispered, "I see a little boy! He has a dog, which he is playing with in his backyard. But where are his parents? Ah, his parents are dead . . . Alas, this little boy only has the dog for affection. You had a very troubled childhood. You are an orphan, are you not?"  
"My childhood was quite happy," Albus said truthfully, "And no. My mother will be turning one hundred sixty next month."  
"Ah, or will she?" Trelawney said in her misty and glassy tone, and Albus did not move. Trelawney cleared her throat and went back to the ball, "But you had a dog? And his name was . . . Rover . . ."  
"Sadly, I did not," Albus said, his eyes sparkling now with amusement. Oh, how Minerva would have enjoyed this little display.  
"The present is coming in clearer than the past," Trelawney said, bringing a hand to stroke the glass orb, "The present . . . An older man . . . weighed down by this war that has taken its toll on him. He feels helpless. There is nothing that he can do. He has tried, but failed. He is alone with this unknown evil that names himself . . . well, you know what he names himself . . . he has never met this evil before face to face . . . and never will . . ."  
"I think I've seen enough, Miss Trelawney," Albus said, completely aware that she was now reaching, "I will send you an owl within a week's time. Thank you for your evening."  
He stood, and Trelawney's face grew panicked. She looked up from the ball, and stood, "Wait!" she said, trying to keep her composure, "Please, wait! I . . . I will tell of your fate! Tea leaves are more accurate than a crystal ball any day . . ."  
"It is late, and I still have to finish my dinner with the Headmistress," Albus said, tying his purple cloak in the front, "So if you don't mind . . ."  
"Please!" Trelawney said, falling to her knees, and hands clutched together. All of the mistiness had faded away from her voice, and the roughness and desperation came out as she lost all of her magical tone, "Please take mercy, Dumbledore! You don't know how it is in the work force now! No one will hire anyone that isn't someone! Everyone thinking that you're shady just because of your last name! They're dark times, Dumbledore! I haven't eaten for two days! They're going to kick me out of here as soon as they find out where I am! You don't understand . . ."  
"Miss Trelawney, I am very sorry to hear of your misfortunes," Dumbledore said, taking the doorknob in his brittle old hands, "But everyone has had their share in these past years. The war will be over, and you will be able to find a more respectable job. Good day, Miss Trelawney."  
And the door opened, and the inscence escaped from his nose and into the hallway. He sighed a tired sigh and he walked into the hallway, rubbing his temples. As much as he wanted to laugh, he couldn't. It was the most pathetic display that he had ever seen. Minerva would never let him live it down. She would always remind him of this incident, and how he had not taken her advice.  
"IT IS COMING."  
Dumbledore stopped. A low, dark voice had come from behind him. It couldn't have been Trelawney. It sounded nothing like her. It was low, almost low enough to be a man's voice.  
"Excuse me?" Albus asked, turning around. His eyes grew wide, and that same shiver flew up his spine as he took in the sight in front of him.  
There was Sibyll Trelawney, on the floor, facing him. Her eyes had rolled back into her sockets, and her mouth drooped open. Her face was dark, and her nails driving into the sides of her scarves. She swayed slightly, as if she was drunk.  
"IT IS COMING," she repeated. 


	96. Chapter 95: Children of Fate

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
A knock at the door. It was late in the night. James groaned, turning over in his sleep. The dream came back to haunt him.  
Benjy Fenwick, the coast of England . . .  
He had died that night.  
Benjy was dead. He had been trampled by a giant, and they had only found bits of him. The only way that they had found out it was Benjy was a head count and the process of elimination. James had been only a few feet away from the incident when it happened. There had been so many of them. At least a thousand giants, slowly making their way onto the beaches of England, and there was nothing that any of them could do. Finally they called a retreat and had returned home with as much of Benjy as they could find. And the Order was not the only one that suffered casualties. More on the Ministry side of things were killed.  
Now the giants were at large, killing off as many Muggles as they could get their hands on, trying to entertain themselves . . .  
It was a horrible world out there.  
But it was only a month until Harry was born.  
Just a month, and then everything would be all right again. He would be a father, and Lily a mother. And Sirius a bonafide Catholic, and able to be Harry's godfather. Oh, how life would change.  
Everything was going to be all right.  
Lily stirred from beside him. She was so large now, and he thought that maybe if he looked at her stomach long enough, he would be able to see Harry kicking from inside. He was going to be a father. He was going to be a daddy.  
The knock came again from downstairs.  
"Mr. Potter!"  
It was Dumbledore's voice.  
What was Dumbledore doing here?  
"James?" Lily sounded from her sleep, and James patted her on the arm, reassuring her. He stood, grabbing his robe and crossing the room.  
"It's okay," he said, "Just go back to sleep. I'll be back in a minute."  
Lily had been very jumpy ever since he had left for the coast that night, two months ago. She had never told him why, but he had his suspicions. It seemed that she was hiding something from him.  
"I'm coming," James said to himself as he tied his robe and ran down the stairs. What time was it? It was easily after midnight. What would he want?  
"Mr. Potter?" the raspy, worn voice came from his doorstep.  
James reached the doorknob, and opened the door to reveal an out-of- breath and frightened Dumbledore. He had lost all of his composure and the glint in his eye was gone. His hair was tussled, and his glasses were falling down his nose as he slammed the door behind him, and grabbed James's wrist with one of his old brittle hands.  
"Come, there isn't much time to explain," he huffed as he led him into the parlor, "Wake Lily, and pour us some tea. There is much to tell you."  
"I don't understand . . ." James said, following the old man into the parlor. It wasn't like Dumbledore to make house calls. He usually sent Frank or Moody to do that for him. Had he lost his mind?  
  
"What's wrong?" James asked the old Headmaster as he made himself at home on the couch, "Did something happen? Is everyone all right?"  
"Wake your wife, James," Dumbledore said, "It is her responsibility as well as yours. And then I want you to send owls to the Longbottoms. I want them in your parlor in five minutes."  
"Five minutes?" James said, coming closer. He had lost it, "Headmaster . . ."  
  
"Do it, James!" Dumbledore said, still trying to catch his breath, "Do it, and do not interrogate me!"  
He had never seen this side of Dumbledore before. He had always wondered why in God's name this old man was in charge of the Order, and was so revered and feared by even the strongest members. Now he knew. Dumbledore was not just a washed up legend. He was a general. He was a leader.  
James nodded quietly, and ran to the kitchen to fetch some spare parchment and wake Dag up from his slumber. Dag was very old now, but he had to make this run.  
Quickly, he jotted down a note:  
  
Frank and Alice:  
  
Come to Potter's house. It is urgent. Headmaster wants to see you.  
  
James  
  
He handed it to Dag, and Dag hooted proudly. It wasn't every day he got to make a delivery. He flew out the window without another sound, and James ran upstairs to get Lily. Hopefully Dag would be fast enough for the Headmaster. Something had happened. Something horrible had happened.  
It took a great deal to scare someone like Albus Dumbledore.  
  
It was only ten minutes later that James and Lily were seated next to Alice and Frank, all facing the Headmaster with the upmost respect. Dumbledore took a long drink of his tea, brushed the remaining liquid out of his long beard, and set the cup down. Something was going on, and the tension in the room could have been cut with a knife.  
"Something very catastrophic happened tonight," Dumbledore said, "Something that has given us both an advantage and a setback."  
"What happened?" Frank asked, his brow furrowed.  
"We have found a weapon to kill Voldemort," the old man said, looking the Auror straight in the eye, "A weapon that is the only thing in this world that can stop him. A weapon that is of equal power, and of equal capability as Tom himself."  
"What is it?" Lily asked.  
Dumbledore took in a deep breath, and then shook his head, "I had a meeting with a certain canidate for the position of Divination teacher at Hogwarts this evening. And during this meeting, as I got up to take my leave, the canidate went into a sort of . . . well, let us just call it a trance, shall we?"  
James sat completely still. What was Dumbledore talking about? Had he really lost it? Had the war been too much stress on his old mind?  
"Mr. Potter, have you ever heard of a prophecy?"  
James snapped to attention, and slowly nodded his head, "Of course."  
"They are dangerous things," Dumbledore said, taking another drink of his tea, "The future is not to be seen, my friends. There are reasons that our kind shuns those with the Eye. They are feared, and yet never taken lightly. There is an entire department devoted to the storing of prophecies in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. And yet, that Department is feared. It brings to mind questions of altering our fates, if there is such a thing as a fate."  
Frank glanced at James out of the corner of his eye, and James shrugged slightly. None of them knew what this was leading up to.  
"Well," Dumbledore said, setting his tea cup back onto the coffee table, "Tonight, my canidate made a rather disturbing prophecy. A prophecy of a weapon that will defeat Lord Voldemort and his reign on this world."  
"What is the weapon, though?" Alice asked, and Dumbledore let out a long and tired sigh.  
"It was very vague at the time," Dumbledore said, "But we do know this. It will be a child born at the end of July of this year. It will be born to two that have thrice defied Voldemort."  
There was a stillness throughout the room, and Lily grew tense.  
"Well, that narrows it down," James said, sarcastically, "We've all survived Voldemort, Headmaster. Everyone in the Order has survived him at least three times . . ."  
"There is a difference between the word survived and the word defied, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore contradicted him, "Survive means to merely make it out alive. Why, your friend Mr. Pettigrew has survived life, but it does not mean he has come out the better for it. Mr. Lupin has survived his curse, and yet it is not beaten. Defying is the greatest sort of bravery imaginable, Mr. Potter. It is what you did the night of your meeting with Voldemort in the park. It is what you showed when you would not give into Tom in the woods. And finally, it is what you felt at Antonin's house the night that they were going to murder Mr. Lupin. That was defiance, not survival. Do I make myself clear?"  
"But . . ." James stopped, and then stared at Lily, and then at where Harry lay. The gears were clicking into place once again, "It possibly can't be Harry, Headmaster."  
"You are right," Dumbledore said, looking to Frank and Alice, "Both of you have also defied him three times," he said, "It could easily be your child instead."  
Their faces grew solemn, as James and Lily stared at them, and then back to each other. James laughed, and then shook his head.  
"But Headmaster, Lily didn't . . ."  
"The night in the woods, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said quietly, "And, of course, she also defied him at Antonin's."  
"That's only twice," James said, searching for a loop hole out of what he was inferring.  
"And the night that you were gone to fight the giants," Frank said quietly, and Alice gave a cautious look to Lily, who was staring at them with the look of a vulture.  
James stopped, and turned to stare at Lily, "What?" he started, "I don't . . ."  
"There was a man that came," Lily said quietly, "I never . . . I didn't want you to worry . . ."  
"There was a man in here?" James started, "No, why . . . And what did he want?"  
"She killed him, James," Alice said, "She didn't want you to know. We thought it may be for the best if you didn't . . ."  
"You killed who? The man?" James exclaimed, staring at his wife, "Was he going to kill you?"  
Lily looked ready to cry, but she didn't. She just turned back to Dumbledore, and bravely said, "And our children are the only two in this whole world that fit that criteria?"  
Dumbledore sadly nodded, and said, "One of your children . . . either yours, James and Lily, or yours, Frank and Alice . . . are the only hope that we have left. Tom will mark them as his equal, and it will be up to them to rid us of this nightmare that we all have been living for far too long."  
  
"And what if they don't?" James asked, now practically hysterical, "What if they don't kill him?"  
Dumbledore sighed again, and rubbed his temples, "Then Tom will kill the child."  
Alice gave out a quiet cry, and Frank rubbed her back, "Albus, we all know how prophecies are made. Not all of them come true . . ."  
"If there has never been a non-believer of the Eye in this world, it is I, Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore continued on, crossing his legs, "But I was there this evening, and I saw it with my own eyes."  
"Is Voldemort going to come after them?" Lily asked, trying to keep her composure, "Is that what you mean by mark them as his equal? Does Voldemort know about this?"  
Dumbledore hesitated, and James froze. He had paused. He had faltered. He was frightened. Dumbledore had never acted like this before . . .  
"Yes, he does," the old Headmaster said truthfully, "One of his spies was in the room next to us, tailing me as I went to my meeting. Yet we stopped him before he heard the entire prophecy. It is under control. Yet he knows enough to . . . cause damage."  
"What sort of damage?" James demanded.  
"We need you to go into hiding," Dumbledore started, "All four of you. You will have your children in peace, and be safe from any outside complications. You will stay in hiding until this war is over."  
There was a silence throughout the room as James stared the Headmaster down. He wanted him to go into hiding. He wanted him to give up what he had been fighting for. Anger boiled up inside of him.  
"It is for your own well-being, James," Dumbledore said, seeing the expression on the man's face.  
"No," James said, sternly, "It is NOT for my own good! We are a family! Lily and I are part of the Order . . ."  
"And you've fulfilled your duty, James," Frank said, "We all four have. We've done our fair share. Now it's time to . . ."  
"NO!" James said, standing up. Lily broke away from him, and folded her hands in her lap. She could feel the baby kicking harshly now, "NO! I WILL NOT RUN! I WON'T DO THAT!"  
"Think of your father, James," Dumbledore said, composed, "Think of what happened to him and your mother. Do you want to be found dead next to Lily? Do you want to have the same fate as he did?"  
"My father was a brave man," James said, pointing a finger dangerously at Dumbledore, "He had his priorities right. And he taught me well."  
"Your father is dead, James," Frank said, standing to face him, "And because of his decisions, your mother and your sister are dead as well."  
"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT MY FAMILY, LONGBOTTOM!" James shouted, starting in on Frank, "YOU DIDN'T KNOW THEM! YOU DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THEM! THEY WERE JUST ANOTHER SACRIFICE FOR YOU AND THE ORDER! WHAT, DID YOU GIVE THEM A MOMENT OF SILENCE? OR DID YOU JUST PLASTER THEIR NAME UP ON THE WALL LIKE YOU DID MARLENE AND BENJY?"  
Frank's brow was straight, and his lips thin as he balled his hands into fists.  
"Who have you lost, Frank," James said, coming closer, "WHO HAVE YOU LOST!? NO ONE!"  
"James . . ." Alice started.  
"Don't you stand there and patronize me, Frank," James shouted in his face, "You haven't lost anyone! You're Frank Longbottom, you're untouchable! Well, maybe you can go running off and still feel good about yourself, but I'm living in the real world! You don't hear their voices at night! You probably didn't even have another thought about them!"  
"Mr. Potter, would you kindly sit down?" Dumbledore said.  
"YOU DIDN'T KNOW HIM!" James shouted, now to all three of them, "HE DID THE RIGHT THING! HE TAUGHT HIS SON NOT TO GO RUNNING! HE TAUGHT HIM TO STAND FOR WHAT HE BELIEVED IN!"  
"And for what cost, James?" Dumbledore said, "The cost of his family's life. The cost of his own life."  
"How many times have you remembered Marlene, Frank?" James said, still pursuing the man that stood in front of him, silent. Lily and Alice stared at their husbands in dismay as James jutted his face two inches away from his opponents, "How many times did you see my parents laying there in their room? How many times, Frank? Or do heroes like you consider themselves too good for that?"  
And that's when it happened. Frank brought his steel-like hand to James's jaw, and with full force made contact. James went flying onto the couch, between a screaming Alice and a rigid Lily. James held his jaw as he collected his bearings, and then shot up from the couch to face Frank again. Lily could see blood surfacing from the corner of his mouth.  
"I think about them every day," Frank said, in his low and controlled voice as James eyed him cautiously, "And I've lost more than you ever will in your little life."  
The two men stood there, dangerously staring the other down. Lily slowly stood, and stepped between them.  
"That's enough, James," she said, looking to her husband, "There's enough going on in the world that we don't need you two going at it."  
"I will not run," James said, still not taking his eyes off of Frank, "I will never run."  
"You have a family now," Dumbledore said.  
James stopped, and then massaged his jaw again, "I'm aware of that," he said, "And I'm doing what I'm doing because of my family."  
"James is right," Lily said quietly, standing beside him as Frank backed away to sit down next to Alice again, "We belong with the Order. We fight. We've been in this war for two years. We can't quit now."  
  
"Even if it means the life of you and your child," Dumbledore asked.  
"That won't happen," James said darkly, "I won't let it happen."  
"You are young," Dumbledore said, rising and readjusting his glasses, "Possibly someday you shall become a man, James. I am sad to say that that day is not today. And as for you, Mr. Longbottom," he said, turning on Frank who was now glaring darkly at James and Lily, "I would advise you to watch your temper. We are all on the same side, and I will not tolerate schoolyard behavior in my presence. Now, I must leave for the Ministry. Please think about your children's well being, all of you. We shall continue this conversation at a later date. I bid you all good night."  
And then Dumbledore stepped into the fireplace that they had been sitting by, and disappeared in a flash of smoke. The Longbottoms and the Potters stared at each other, the women uncomfortably, and the men murderously.  
"James," Alice started, "We all understand where you are coming from . . ."  
"Don't pretend to care," James snapped, and then turned to leave the room.  
"It's no use, Alice," Frank said, glaring at his back, "We're obviously too good to understand the great James Potter."  
James's eyes narrowed, and he turned around to face Frank, his face looking more like Sirius's than his own. Lily shot a warning look to him, but he paid no heed.  
"You still are just a little boy," Frank said, "You still haven't grown up."  
James's glare grew more intense, and he looked ready to kill Frank. Yet Frank was not afraid. He stood his ground, and stared back, glaring knives back at the nineteen-year-old boy.  
"Frank, James . . ." Lily started, trying to break them up again, "Look, I know that we're all worried. But we don't need to start taking it out on each other. We're all on the same side. You two are friends, remember that . . ."  
"Frank," Alice whispered, taking his arm, and tugging him back, "Maybe we should go."  
"Maybe you should," James snapped, and Alice shot a hurt look to him. James had never acted this way toward them before. Lily wanted to slap him across the face.  
"James . . ."  
"Come on," Alice said, trying to pull her husband toward the front door, "I don't think we're wanted here."  
"Alice," Lily started, but Alice patted her on the back.  
"I'll see you tomorrow, dear," she said quietly, avoiding eye contact with James as she crossed the room, dragging her husband behind her. Frank was still staring Lily's husband down, but didn't say anything as he left the house, following his wife and then disappearing behind the door.  
James still held his jaw in pain as the door shut behind the two of them, and then he crossed the room to make his way back to the staircase, leading upstairs.  
"Where are you going?" Lily asked sternly.  
"To bed," James said simply, and started up the stairs.  
"We need to talk about this," Lily followed him, her voice urgent.  
"No, we don't," he retorted, mussing his hair and disappearing around the corner. She heard the bedroom door slam, and then silence. She sighed, and sat down on the lowest stair. The baby was getting heavier.  
Now the pride and joy that she was carrying became a burden. Was her child the one that would change the world? Was she carrying the boy that would end the war? How was that possible? There was no way on earth that one child could be that important . . . a baby . . .  
James needed someone to talk to. And it couldn't be her. He would never discuss this with her. It had to be someone that he trusted, over any other human being on earth. Someone that he would tell anything to. 


	97. Chapter 96: A Familiar House

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
"So," Sirius said, thrusting his hands into his pockets, "How are you this lovely morning?"  
It had been a random morning that Sirius had called, wanting to treat him to breakfast after mass. James had been under the impression that Lily would be joining them, but sadly she had left him and his old friend alone for the afternoon to go "baby shopping" with Emmeline and Alice.  
Well, let them shop.  
The one thing in his life that was supposed to be good, the one thing that had kept him going these past nine months, was now a curse. It wasn't that he hated the baby, or that he resented having the baby on its way . . . but now all of the joy of having a new child seemed to have disappeared.  
And Frank, standing there, pretending that he knew his father better than his own son. The adacity of that man to pawn himself off as God, as if he knew what was right and what was wrong. How many times had James's mother tucked Frank in at night? How many conversations had Frank had with Sprite? How many times did Frank see Wendy alive and well?  
None.  
He did not have the authority to judge his father's choices. He hadn't cared about him, nor wanted to care.  
"I was thinking we could go to the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius offered, "My treat."  
James shrugged, "Whatever."  
"I thought maybe you'd like going back there," he said, trying to sound happy, "You know, bring back the old times, put things in perspective . . ."  
"Whatever," James repeated, not listening to a word that his friend was saying.  
Sirius sighed, tussled his hair, and then dug his hands farther into his pockets. The old shell was back, and there was nothing that he could do to snap James out of it. He still remembered the conversation that he had had with Lily.  
"Just talk to him," she had said, "Just listen to what he has to say. He's been through a lot lately, and he won't talk to me."  
Well, he wondered why. She only hadn't told him about someone breaking into their house on Voldemort's orders, holding her at wandpoint. That small detail may have something to do with it.  
"So," Sirius started again, "I was looking through some old school junk that I collected over the years."  
"Yeah," James said, half interested.  
"Yeah," Sirius said, "A bunch of old notes and plans that we wrote out. But I lost our contract. You know, the one that we'd keep our 'Great Power' a secret and all?"  
"Yeah," James said, in a monotone voice.  
"Don't know what happened to it," Sirius sighed, "Must have left it at Grimmauld Place."  
"Yeah," James said, not even hearing the strained tone in Sirius's words. It was hard for Sirius to talk about that hell hole that he had called home for sixteen years. He hadn't mentioned that place since he moved out, and he had avoided mentioning those people since Alphard's will reading.  
"You know," Sirius said, walking down the street, away from the church and to where they would find the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron once again, "We've come a long ways since first year. Think about it. We've changed the world."  
James didn't answer as they stepped onto the curb. Only a few more blocks to go.  
"But through all that I've learned, James," Sirius continued, even if James wasn't listening to a word that he was saying, "I've found out that family is the most important thing. I mean, I'd do anything for you guys . . . you know, my real family. And I know that you'd do the same for your family."  
James stopped, as they faced the next intersection. It was a familiar street with a familiar name. One that had belonged to an older white house, that had once housed a picture perfect family.  
James's face grew the color of white chalk as Sirius read the name of the street, and then blinked. It was the old street on which the Potters used to live. He couldn't believe that he hadn't recognized it.  
"James . . ."  
"You know what's haunted me the most these two years, Sirius?" James said, staring at the sign in which the name was engraved. His blood froze, and he looked so much older. Much more older than nineteen, soon to be twenty.  
"What?" Sirius asked, knowing very well what he was referring to.  
The sun beat down upon the two men as their eyes became glued to the sign, and then slowly moved down the street to rest upon the familiar white house. It was now occupied by another family. A Muggle car was parked outside of the garage door, shined and polished and beaming in the noonday sun. Another family lived there now. James could never go back.  
"Through everything that I've seen," James said, choking, "Through everything that we've been through . . . the one thing that I still have nightmares about is my father standing there, and how his face looked when I didn't sign the contract. That's the one thing that I wish I could take back. Because I did sign. Because I'm not a coward. I've fought this war for two years now. Two years, Sirius!"  
"So this all comes down to pride, huh?" Sirius sighed, looking at his friend wearily, "This all comes down to you and what your dad would think of you?"  
James didn't answer.  
"That's why you're not gonna go into hiding, isn't it?"  
James turned away from Sirius to look in the other direction, and crossed his arms in front of him. Sirius scratched his head, and then made a face. He hated this. Why did he always have to be the one in this situation? Remus was a lot better at this sort of stuff. But Remus wasn't here. It was up to him now.  
"James, look," he started, and took a breath of warm summer air, "I didn't know your dad too well, but I know that if he had seen what you've done since you've joined the Order, that he'd understand. He'd understand that you have a family to save, and he'd respect that. You have a baby, James . . . and that baby's supposed to be the only thing that can stop Voldemort. If you don't go into hiding for you or Lily, just go into hiding for the sake of keeping our only hope alive."  
James didn't answer still, and Sirius gave up, crossing the street. He knew that James would follow him. And he was right. He knew him all too well.  
"Do you think he made the right decision, Padfoot?" James asked, hopping onto the next curb behind his friend.  
"Who?"  
"My dad," James said quietly, "Do you think he did the right thing?"  
Sirius shrugged, and then said truthfully, "Hell, I'm not God. I can't make judgement calls. I know that your dad wasn't stupid. I know that he probably had his reasons. Just . . . you have different reasons. Don't get caught up in what he decided, all right?"  
James nodded, and then put an arm lovingly around Sirius, "Thanks, mate," he said quietly, and Sirius returned the gesture.  
"Any time," he said, and the boys continued walking down the street, away from the old white house, and away from the nightmares that had scarred both of them. 


	98. Chapter 97: Kidnapped

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The door opened quietly from the other side of the room. The light crawled over the carpet of the bedroom, making its way to the bed that held two sleeping bodies, snoring quietly.  
Two figures, all donned in black, crawled from the corridor into the bedroom without a sound. One of them held a rope in his hands, and the other a gag. Slowly they made their way across the floor, drawing nearer to the sleeping man on the right side of the bed.  
Little did they know that their victim was awake.  
The lights flew on, and James jumped out of his bed, holding his wand out to the two cloaked figures, both frozen in the middle of his bedroom. His hair was in a mess, and his eyes blazed with fire.  
"Avada . . ."  
"Whoa, James!" a familiar voice came, removing his hood.  
It was now James's turn to freeze, and stare at the two men in front of him. Sirius and Peter, removing their cloaks, now stood, smiling mischeviously from their position on the floor.  
"Don't kill us, mate," Sirius said, "It's just us."  
"What the hell are you doing here?" James said, lowering his wand, "You're going to wake Lily up! I could have killed you!"  
"We're here to give you our present," Peter said innocently, hiding the rope behind his back, and Sirius nodded.  
"It's your birthday, James," he said, "Tell me you forgot."  
  
"It's . . . what?" James yawned, and reached for his glasses.  
Peter tried to stifle laughs while Sirius rolled his eyes, and crossed to Lily's side of the bed, "Hey, Evans!"  
"Hey, don't wake her up," James said, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders and trying to tug him back, "She hasn't been sleeping very well . . ."  
"Get him, Wormtail," Sirius said, spinning around, and jumping ontop of James. The two boys fell to the floor with a thud, and Lily stirred in her sleep. James struggled with the two boys as they brandished the rope and gag, and bound him.  
"What the hell are you . . ." he managed to get out before they tied the hankerchief around his tender jaw. He cried out in pain.  
"Oh, shut up," Sirius said, "It's your twentieth. Just having a bit of fun, that's all. All right now, heave ho . . ."  
The two boys heaved their friend between them like a piece of luggage as they made their way into the hallway and away from the sleeping Lily.  
"Come on, don't be such a baby," Sirius said, "Peter, get a better grip on him. He's slipping."  
"He's struggling!" Peter said, trying to keep a hold of James's feet, "He won't stay still! Maybe he doesn't want to do this . . ."  
"Come on now, he'll love it, won't you, James?" Sirius laughed as they started down the stairs into the main hall next to the parlor, "It's for your own good, mate."  
"Mmmph!" James retorted.  
The three boys hit the bottom of the stairs, and James gave a particularly hard kick. Peter squealed, and let go of his legs. James took this opportunity to wriggle his way free of Sirius, and roll into the parlor. Sirius pushed past Peter, who was sprawled out on the staircase, and leaped ontop of his captive yet again. James gave out a resounding shout of a word that none of them could truly make out, and struggled yet again.  
Sirius laughed, and dragged his friend back through the main entrance hall, and kicked the door open with his foot. James could see a black car waiting for them, parked outside his house in the street. Someone was standing next to the passenger side, holding the door open and waiting.  
James stopped struggling, and peered at this figure, also cloaked. It was a figure that he hadn't seen for a while.  
Sirius stood James up on his own feet, and ungagged him, "Now," he said, "Happy Twentieth Birthday, James."  
Remus Lupin smiled sheepishly from his spot by the open door. James slowly felt himself smiling as well, and there was a silence on the street as the two men cautiously looked to each other. Sirius felt a large weight remove from his shoulder. Good.  
No more heart to hearts with James.  
He was no longer the temporary replacement.  
"I hear Lily upstairs," Peter shouted, running out of the house, and slamming the door behind him, "Let's make a run for it!"  
"Come on," Sirius said, untying James, "Let's get going."  
  
James had had no idea where they were going. And he still had no idea as they made their way to King's Cross in London, driving through the streets. The only other one of them that had gotten their liscense other than James had been Sirius, due to his motorbike needs. Therefore, Sirius was now driving at break-neck speeds, with Remus sitting next to him, quietly reminding him to not refrain from using his turn signals. Peter was in the back, nervously looking at James as if somehow his friend was going to lash out and kill him for tying him up.  
It was odd, to see these four friends in the Ministry Car, driving along with the Muggles as if they were one of them. James wondered how they could have gotten the Ministry car . . . probably Sirius and his connections with Moody and Frank.  
James tried to look out his window and stare at the people in the cars next to them. They were real Muggles. They didn't know what sort of hell this world was going through right now. They were still innocent.  
He tried to pretend that his friends and him were also Muggles. Were also innocent. They were just a bunch of boys going out to King's Cross to catch a . . . what did they call them . . . football . . . game. And that they would never have to have another worry in their life.  
"Can I please drive?" Remus said, as Sirius veered into another lane.  
"Do you have a liscense?" Sirius said gruffly as he tried to maneuver the car into a parking garage of King's Cross.  
Remus shook his head as he braced himself for a screeching turn, "Then that answers your question," Sirius said, as he spun the wheel to the left. James's face was plastered up against the window as they spun into a parking space and slammed on the breaks.  
"Now," Sirius unbuckled himself as Remus put a shaky hand through his hair, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
The train was taking them somewhere. It had left from Platform 9 ¾; a place that James thought he would never see again. This time, the train was not Hogwarts Express, and any sign of the word Hogwarts had magically changed into golden and blue letters reading, "Canons vs. Bats."  
James hadn't seen these signs as they made their way to the entrance of the train compartment, where a conductor took their tickets, and patted Peter on the back for some unknown reason. Sirius didn't notice, though. He was too preoccupied trying to secretly make some sort of deal with a shady looking fellow in the corridor.  
"Who was that?" James asked as his friend made his way back into their compartment.  
"My bookie," Sirius said, looking at his receipt, "You remember Dung, don't you? Hey, Dung!"  
A sleek-looking face with long eyes and even longer expression peered his neck through the door, and gave a laugh.  
"Why, if it isn't little Potter, all grown up!" the bookie said, stepping into their compartment, and giving James a punch on the arm, "I's haven't seen the likes of you in how long . . . at least a couple o' years."  
"Hello, Dung," James said, massaging his shoulder, and Sirius laughed, "It's James's big 2-0 today," he informed their old acquaintance, and Dung nodded.  
"Ah, takin' him to the big game, I see," he said, "You'll remember good ol' Orlick, right? Greasings?"  
Dung looked to James in anticipation, and James shrugged, "Not really. Can't really . . ."  
"Ah, he was the large kid that was on the team withca, don't you remember?" Dung said, punching him again on his other shoulder this time, "Large fellow. I think he played a Beater, didn't he, Sirius?"  
Sirius shrugged.  
Greasings. What about Greasings? James could recall a face. A larger boy that reminded him of Professor Snorks at tryouts with him. A Beater on the team. Orlick Greasings, his friend from school. Yeah, he remembered him. Sort of a dim fellow, but always there to support him when another teammate got him down.  
"Well, he's on the Bats now," Dung said, "Startin' as a Beater. Rookie this year. Just got out of the fall training, and started in the spring. I'm surprised you ain't heard of him, James. Thought you would have been watchin' all o' the games this season. You were the best, you know."  
"I've been busy," James said quickly.  
Dung gave James a look, and slowly waved to Sirius, "Good seein' you chaps again. See you around."  
And the compartment door closed behind him.  
James knew where they were going now. They were going to the Quidditch game between the Chasers and the Bats. It was going to be like old times, the guys sitting in the stands of a Quidditch pitch, watching the players fly in front of them, throwing the balls back and forth and chasing after the Snitch.  
Except this time, James would be sitting with them in the stands instead of flying high in the sky. This time, James would be a spectator. 


	99. Chapter 98: A Forgotten Friend

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author about updates: Hello, fanfiction readers. No, I'm still alive. As I said before, I will not be updating as much (as you may have already noticed), but I have full intentions on finishing this story! Don't give up on me, I will complete this. I am very busy right now not only with schoolwork, but a script that must be finished and ready to be sent by January, so I have another project that I am working vigorously on. On top of that, mid terms just took place last week. So I apologize for disappearing, but I disappeared with good excuses. And now . . . another . . .er . . . chapter . . . of Forever Alive.)  
  
The train began to move forward as Peter tried to scoot past Sirius, who had his legs sprawled out in the small aisle between his and James's seat, and where Remus sat. Remus was dressed in a brown cloak, his arms crossed and his messed hair falling into his face. His pointed nose stuck out from the greying locks, and James took a good look at him. He looked older, more worn down. When was the last time he had really stopped to think about Remus?  
It must have been a long time.  
Remus almost seemed like a stranger now.  
Sirius, looking from James's expression to where James's expression was directed to, coughed and stood. Peter plopped down in his seat, and gave out a tired sigh.  
"Well, now we're on our way, hey?" he said, as Sirius turned toward him.  
"Hey, Wormtail," he said, "I need some help with something out here. Care to give me a hand?"  
Peter's face fell, "What? But I just sat down . . ."  
"Thanks," Sirius said, reaching over Remus and pulling Peter reluctantly out of his cushioned seat and into the corridor outside. The door shut behind the two of them, and James was alone with Lupin.  
He fumbled with the hem of his robe. He didn't want to talk to Remus. He had nothing to talk about. What was he supposed to say to him? Remus would probably critique him on every word that came out of his mouth.  
Remus didn't seem too enamoured with this idea of being left alone either. He casually gazed out of the window, as if not noticing that the other two had escaped the compartment. He gave out a tired sigh, and closed his eyes. Two days until the wolf was back. Two days until he would be back in his cabin, watching the moon rise over the evergreen trees and their black shadows that created the jagged face of the woods at night. Two days until the wolf would overtake him, and nothing would stop him. No more friends to stop him. He knew that they didn't come around anymore. The wolf was quite aware of it. The wolf had grown stronger. It was with him even now, laughing at his misfortune.  
What was he supposed to say to James? Oh, glad you didn't pick me as godfather. Glad you didn't trust me. Glad you didn't stay behind when we went off to stop the giants.  
He could still see Fenwick and James, running forward to stop a new brigade of them attacking to the east. They were sprinting across the sand, and Fenwick jumped in front of James at the last minute because he thought he saw something. Remus had seen the foot come down on top of the man, missing James's face by inches. His heart had stopped. He had rushed forward, trying to save James from the same fate . . .  
He had pulled him away in time. He had flown to his side, grabbed him back and thrown him into the sand. James had been screaming. His eyes had been set on where Fenwick lay. His skin had been clammy and cold when he had thrown him behind the rock. James's mouth had been in a large O, screaming and screaming.  
There had been a lot of screaming that night.  
A lot of destruction.  
Remus had kept him behind the rock, and James had struggled to get free. But Remus had kept him pinned. He wouldn't let go. He wasn't going to let James die. Not after he had married Lily, and now a son was on the way. There was no way that Remus would let James end up like Fenwick.  
James had called him a coward.  
James had said that it wasn't his decision to make.  
James was wrong.  
After the battle, they had returned to Moody's house, and James hadn't said a word to him. No one had talked about that battle. No one went to Fenwick's funeral. James didn't tell Sirius or Peter about screaming. Remus didn't ask for gratitude, for he knew that he wouldn't get any.  
Remus had kept him alive that night, and yet . . . and yet James hadn't shown anything toward him.  
He wasn't Sirius. That was why.  
"So," James said, mussing his hair. Remus looked to the boy who sat in front of him. How had they gotten so old? Last time Remus had checked, they were eleven with the world bowing at their feet. So how had James gotten to be twenty? How had Remus gotten to have gray hair? James . . . an adult . . . twenty . . .  
"So," Remus replied, with an unenthusiastic tone. James was still that little arrogant boy that he always was. They had nothing in common. So why had they become friends?  
Remus tried to think back to when they were younger. He had been so happy to have some friends . . . any friends . . . he had never had any before. He had been very weak, and the wolf had haunted him even more then than now. James had had everything.  
So how had they become friends?  
"You haven't been around for a while," James said, "Lily's been worried."  
"I've been busy," Remus said, looking James square in the eyes. He wasn't going to be under his reign anymore. He wasn't Sirius. He wasn't Peter. He was Remus. He was an adult now. James wasn't going to pressure him into risking his neck for a crazy night of adventures. He wasn't going to sweet talk him into going out on a limb for one buzz of adrenaline. He wasn't going to manipulate him to do his homework, or anything else. Remus was an adult.  
"Hey, Remus?" James asked, shifting in his chair to grow closer.  
"What, James," Remus said, looking out the window, trying to pretend he was somewhere else. He could see the wolf sitting quietly next to James, laughing silently.  
"Why did you come?"  
"What?" his gaze focused now on the boy in front of him, and he felt as if he was going to hurl himself out of the train window.  
"Why did you come to this thing if you didn't want to see me?" James asked, "If you're so appalled by me, then why the hell did you bother?"  
"I'm not appalled . . ."  
"Something's going on, Moony," James said, "And you're not telling anyone. What's happening to you? You look so . . . so old."  
Remus sighed again, and looked back out the window. He didn't want to discuss this with James. Not here. Not now. Not ever.  
Moony.  
James had used his old name. A pain from an old cut deep inside welled up. He had known those four boys, long ago. He had known how close they had been. He could still hear them laughing, talking about their nightly adventure around the bedposts. But their laughter was slowly diminishing. Those four boys had been innocent. That's what made them different people than the four men that he know knew. Those men had killed, murdered, fought for survival. Those men had hated, loved, and had seen the world.  
Those men had grown apart.  
Or at least one of them had.  
He had grown up. He knew what the hells of the world were now. Every day that he walked down the street, he saw those flags in the windows. Every day he gave another out. Every night he would see them, laying in the streets, dead. Every night he would kill another Death Eater, or track one down, or question one. And every morning, moments before he opened his eyes and awoke to a new day, he would see their faces . . . all of them . . .  
The faces of the fallen.  
First would come Marlene's, then Fenwick's, and then the rest of them . . . slowly jumping into place after the other. Even Sampson, the man he had killed all that time ago, still haunted him. All of them.  
And every night, before laying down to sleep, he would hear the wolf whisper in his ear, "It draws nearer." Every night, the wolf would repeat those words as Remus tried to drone him out. And he would fall asleep to his counterpart breathing on his face, "It draws nearer. It draws nearer."  
He knew perfectly well what "it" was. "It" was the day when everything that he feared came true. "It" was the day that he had created in his head to be the day to end all days. "It" was the day when the Order ran out of supplies and disappeared. "It" was the day when Voldemort would win. "It" was the day when Peter and Sirius and . . . and James . . . they would die. It was that day that he feared more than anything else.  
"Remus?"  
Remus blinked, and looked back at James. James was staring at him, sullen. He could tell something was wrong. Remus collected himself quickly, and put on his face. He didn't want James reading him. He didn't want to worry him. He . . .  
"Remus," James said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "Look, we're friends still. Right? I mean, you . . ."  
"Yes, we're friends," Remus said, "Of course. I . . ."  
What was he going to say? What was he saying now? They were friends? But . . .  
God, was he losing his mind? Was this lack of sleep? One minute Remus wanted to strangle James, and now . . . and now they were friends again?  
Was it always this hard saying that you were sorry?  
"Look," James said, removing his hand from Remus's shoulder, "We're all going through a hard time. We have since we graduated. And you're not alone. Right? You know that, right?"  
Remus didn't answer.  
"Right?" James pressed, and Remus stood to leave.  
"You asked a good question," Remus said, reaching for the sliding door, "Why did I come."  
"You know," James said, following him and turning him around, "You haven't changed. You're just like you were when you were a kid. You run away from things . . ."  
"James . . ."  
"Whenever something bad happens, you try to ignore it. But you can't, Remus. Bad things happen! You have to live with them! You can't be scared of them!"  
Remus didn't say anything, and looked dead on at the compartment door, wishing that he could be left alone. James wasn't giving up, though. He kept one hand on the doorknob of the sliding door, and stared knives at the werewolf. He wasn't letting him go this time.  
"Someday, Remus," James said, "Someday, you're going to wake up and find yourself all alone. Peter won't be there. Sirius won't be there. I won't be there! And you'll wonder what happened. You'll wonder why you are by yourself. And then you'll be wishing to be back on this train with us."  
Remus was silent. He didn't speak. He didn't move. James stared at this boy that he used to know. Sirius was right. Something was wrong with him. Something was happening in his mind that none of them could see.  
How did a werewolf's mind work?  
James had never thought of Remus as a "werewolf." He had always just seen him as a boy. As a human. But what if there was something that they didn't understand that had overttaken the human part of this man? What if that wolf that they had seen in the nights of the full moon only reigned inside? What if . . .  
James shuddered, and took his shaking hand from the knob. It was white. He couldn't let that happen. The feeling of responsibility that they had all felt on the nights of the transformation returned, and he looked at his friend.  
Remus had always tried to be strong, and yet they were always there for him. He wasn't the fastest. He wasn't the strongest. But he was the smartest. That's what James had always admired about him.  
"Look," James sighed, and extended his hand to Remus, "Just . . . just know that we're still here. You're not alone, Moony."  
Remus stared at James's hand. What was he going to do now. They were different. They were both so different.  
He could hear Sirius and Peter coming back down the corridor. Their loud laughing and rash tones told him that they were excited about the game. They had placed bets on the Canons. Or, at least, Sirius had.  
He could have never laughed as wholeheartedly as they were then. They were in the same place as he was, and yet so far away.  
"But I am," Remus whispered quietly to James, just as the compartment door slid open. Sirius and Peter's shining persona entered into the room, and Sirius pushed past the two boys, not noticing that anything was wrong at all.  
"Had to ask the conductor about seating, that's all," he explained as he fell into place again. He sighed, and kicked off his biker boots, "Hardly call him a conductor, though. Doesn't even know the difference between a broomstick and a Bludger."  
James didn't look at Sirius. His eyes were fixed on his other friend. Remus hadn't moved, and he looked so much older than he had moments before. Pale. Weak.  
Something was wrong.  
And Remus would never tell. 


	100. Chapter 99: Bats vs Canons

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note about Remus: Yes, I understand that the take on Remus is unorthodox. Trust me. I am aware of his character, and there is a reason for his "pity" factor. It will all come into play in the end, but please realize that I am not just trying to get a sympathetic look on him, but more of an ignorant one. If that makes any sense whatsoever. In conclusion, there is a reason for Remus acting like he is, and please trust that it will all come into play by conclusion time.)  
  
The stands of the playing field were completely full. The entire world was rustling with whoops and hollers. For the first time in a while, James felt himself smile.  
He was home.  
"GO CANONS!" a voice called from the side.  
"BATTY FOR BUTTERBEER! GET YOUR BUTTERBEER! BUTTERBEER!"  
"I LOVE YOU, GREASINGS!"  
"Come on," Sirius said as he and Peter led the way up the stands and to their seats. James smiled, and followed them, skipping past a butterbeer vendor. The vendor nodded a head to Peter, and Peter nodded back.  
"You know him?" James asked, looking back at the burly man screaming for sales. Peter shrugged, and continued following Sirius up the stands to the seats that were supposedly theirs.  
James had never been in the stands of a real Quidditch game before. Lily and him had gone on many dates to the different matches that he wasn't playing in during school, and his father had held him on his lap during the all-girls championship that Wendy had played in when he was young. But this was different. It was a true match.  
And he was a spectator.  
The entire area smelled of butterbeer and an assortment of sweat radiating from the hot July afternoon. Large men sat in the seats they passed, wearing colorful robes and holding signs in hands that read "GO BATS!" or "GOD BLESS CHUDLEY!" It was an array of all sorts of people and sights and smells . . . James had found his Heaven on Earth.  
His smile broadened, and he stepped in front of Peter, to fall in line with Sirius. Remus dragged behind the three of them, and Peter, seeing this, slowed his step to stand next to him.  
"Have a nice chat with Prongs, hey?" Peter asked as they climbed up another block of steps.  
"His name is James," Remus said, "It has been for a while."  
Peter furrowed his brow, and looked to James, "Uh, all right then. And so . . . what does that make you?"  
"Peter, please," Remus said, "Just . . . stop."  
"Went that well, hey?" Peter mumbled, and waved sheepishly to another man that he passed, "Well, I warned you. You both are stubborn and . . ."  
"Let's forget about it," he said, walking faster. Peter huffed, and panted as he tried to catch up with his friend, "I'm here, aren't I? We paid for the tickets. Now let's enjoy this game."  
"All right," Peter said eagerly between breaths, and then the four continued up the steps.  
Sirius and James were laughing and talking excitedly about scores of the last Canons game as they scooted into an aisle high in the air. It must have cost them a load of Galleons to get seats this far up, James thought to himself as Sirius pointed to the four spaces open for them.  
"Happy birthday, Potter," Sirius said, letting James scoot ahead of him, and take a seat in the stands next to an old wizard with a patch reading "BALLYCASTLE" sewn onto his robes.  
Sirius plopped into the seat next to his friend, and then Peter and Remus made their way to sit next to them. The music had begun to play loudly from all sides of the pitch, and James checked his watch.  
"What time does it start?" he asked, and Sirius shrugged.  
"Depends," Sirius said, "Ballycastle and Canons don't really get along that well, you know that."  
"James Potter!"  
James jumped at his name, and his gaze flew in the direction of a short balding man seated in front of him. He was donned in the Canons merchandise.  
"Er . . . hello," James said, "Do I . . ."  
"It's Potter himself!" the man said, turning completely around in his seat, "Look, Carl, it's James Potter!"  
Another fatter man followed his friend's example and turned to gawk at James. The two of them smiled eagerly and extended their hand.  
"Rupert Brudgins, sir!" the first one said, "I work for the Daily Prophet, and my my, have we been having a hard time getting a hold of you and your lot."  
"I'm sorry," James said, "I don't really understand . . ."  
"Of course you must have heard of us," Brudgins said, pointing from himself to his friend, and back to himself, "Brudgins and Bakers. The best war journalists in all of England herself. Trying to get in touch with you, but that Crouch won't let us touch you with a ten-foot-pole. Not to mention Dumbledore . . ."  
"Yeah, I've heard of you," Sirius said, leaning forward. The two journalists backed away at the sight of his dark face. Brudgins smiled innocently and gave out a "oh" through his teeth, "You're always poking around our crime scenes, aren't you? You're the man at the old manor that night. And at the street corner. And . . ."  
"Ah, and you must be the infamous Sirius Black," Bakers said, taking out a quill from his pocket, "Yes, yes . . . the Order keeps you two quite busy now, don't they?"  
Sirius and James looked at each other, and then glared back at the two men.  
"There is no such thing as the Order," Remus cut in, seeing the all- too familiar look on Sirius's face, "We are Ministry Aurors, and we work under Bartemus Crouch. If you would like to schedule an interview, then you must go through him."  
"We've heard that story countless times, sir," Bakers said, adjusting his glasses, "You cannot expect us to believe it."  
"The entire countryside is in flames," Brudgins added, "And there's not a damn thing the Ministry can do."  
"And out of nowhere, out of the night," Bakers continued, "Twenty or so Aurors show up out of the fields. An hour later, they're gone."  
"Without a word."  
"Soon, there is a prophecy given (James tensed, and gripped the sides of his seat). And the prophecy includes a mother and father that have defied You-Know-Who three times each."  
"Now what sort of regular folk go out looking for that sort of company on a regular basis?" Brudgins said, "Your cover is slowly diminishing, boys."  
"We just have a few quick questions to ask of the boy," Bakers said, somewhat content with himself. James glared, "And that's all we want, really."  
"Yes," Brudgins coughed, "Now, when exactly is your child due?"  
"And is it truly a boy?"  
"Do you believe that he really may be the one?"  
"Will you go into hiding if he is?"  
  
"Does You-Know-Who know of your wife's pregnancy?"  
  
"Is she truly Muggle born?"  
"Shut it, the lot of you!" Sirius said, standing and dragging James up with him, "He won't be answering any questions today! And if you keep pestering him, you'll be seeing a side of the Ministry that you won't like."  
"Which side of the Ministry would that be?" Bakers asked.  
"Piss off," Sirius barked as he pushed James off in a different direction, and Peter and Remus hurried to follow them.  
"We're asking for different seats," Sirius growled, his eyes darkened, "This is insane. Can't even go out for a game without being bombarded by crazies."  
"I-I'll go try to get a ticket change," Peter said, collecting the four tickets, "Be back in a jiff."  
He disappeared into the crowd, and the music blared in all of their ears.  
  
"Ladies and gentleman," the announcer's voice sounded over the pitch, "Welcome to the third game of the season between the Ballycastle Bats, and the Chudley Canons. I'm Humphrey Harolds, the voice of the Canons . . ."  
"And I'm Davey Gudgeon, the voice of the Bats," a very familiar voice echoed into their heads, "Inviting you to enjoy your days here in lovely Hogsmeade. Remember, the voices of the pitch are sponsered by Madame Florine's Sweet Tooth Candy Shop, located between the owlery and Zonko's on Main Street. Come to Florine's for a fun-filled adventure of cavities, gum disease, and the occasional root canal . . ."  
"Excuse my partner, ladies and gentleman," Harolds said, "Madame Florine's Sweet Tooth Candy shop is all sugar free . . ."  
"Moving on," Davey's voice continued.  
Sirius laughed, and patted James on the back. They were closer to the front now, and they could see the shadows of the Quidditch players in their pens, waiting to swarm into the sky.  
"That's Davey for you," Sirius chortled, "Thank him for the discount on our way out, why don't you. He's the reason why we're here in the first place."  
"He wishes you a happy twentieth," Peter added, and James laughed.  
"This is great," he said, smiling broadly, "Couldn't ask for more. Thank you," he said, quietly gazing over Peter's shoulder to the quiet werewolf sitting in the next vacant seat, "All of you."  
Remus looked over, taken by surprise, and studied him. James gave a weak smile, and Remus blinked.  
He returned the grin silently.  
"AND HERE COME THE CANONS!" Harolds shouted over the boisterous rants of Davey, "COMING ONTO THE FIELD! CHASERS BARLEY, RALLLINGS, AND WILLIAMS!"  
"Who are the three worst ogres in the league since the invention of a Bludger," Davey yawned.  
"FOLLOWED BY BEATERS FIELDS, DARDINGS, AND TORRANCE."  
"Vastly overrated."  
"FOLLOWED BY KEEPER CARSONS!"  
"Who, I swear, was born with his head up his you-know-where . . ."  
"AND FINALLY SEEKER BILL CLOPPINS!"  
"Who is seeking an early retirement."  
James laughed at the poor excuses for jokes, and watched as the team whirled onto the field. Cloppins, in true life, the real Cloppins! And Carsons! And Dardings! All of them were there in the same pitch as he was! It was amazing!  
They had been his heroes growing up, and now he watched them from only a few meters away. He felt as if he were on Mount Olympus with the gods themselves.  
"And now for the real team," Davey said, clearing his throat, "THE BALLYCASTLE BATS! BROUGHT TO YOU BY BUTTERBEER. REMEMBER, BATTY THE BAT IS BATTY FOR BUTTERBEER!"  
"I would like to disclose that the Canons does not take pride in money earned by endorsements one jingle short of a joke," Harolds spat.  
"That's 'cause no one would want your team to endorse them, Humphrey boy," Davey said, "But we'll just cross our fingers, and hope for the best, shall we? Ain't that the Canon thing to do? Now, as I was saying . . . CHASERS STEVES, LALEYS, AND O'FLANNAGAN! FOLLOWED BY BEATERS OLAF AND GREASINGS ."  
The crowd cheered as Orlick Greasings flew out behind his four teammates. He smiled, and waved happily to the wave of faces as he looped around the field.  
James remembered him now. He hadn't changed since graduation, except for the bald head that Orlick now sported. He truly did look like Snorks.  
He wondered how it felt to be on a broomstick. When was the last time he had flown? Not since the wedding, and definitely not since the initiation into the Order. He could remember the wood underneath his fingers, the slivers toying at his callouses and threatening to poke his blisters open. Even through the gloves, they skillfully made their way through the weaved material to spike his fingers. The wind was in his hair, and the complete feeling of freedom swarmed through his body. The entire world was open to him on his broom, and he saw the landscape from far away.  
The cheering crowd, shouting his name loudly through the stands. Merchandise with his name plastered to it. Figurines that mussed their hair and smiled at little girls from their shelves at the souvenir box. All of it was his. All of it was him.  
James Potter, greatest Seeker that any of them had ever seen! They were cheering for him! Chanting his name!  
Sirius and Peter and Remus smiled down from their seats in the stands, just like they did in younger days. He saluted them, and then flew higher and higher into the sky. The voice of Davey Gudgeon echoed in his ears, shouting his name loudly over the voice of Harolds.  
And then, right when the game began, he saw the Snitch flying down to the earth. And he gripped his slivered broomstick, and he pointed the nose to the ground. Falling falling falling . . .  
Closer to the ground! The green flying to hit him in the face, but he wouldn't let it . . . he wouldn't go that far down.  
Faster than anything he had ever felt. His stomach flew to his feet, and his eyes grew red as it caught the wind behind his glasses. His hair flew behind him, and he outstretched his hand. He was in control of the broom, he was . . .  
"AND SCORE FOR THE CANONS!"  
James blinked. He was back in the bleachers. He was a spectator.  
The broom was gone. The figurines had never existed.  
"It's a bloody miracle," Davey said, "First score for the season, actually."  
James saw Greasings fly around the field, his club in hand. The girls in the stands swooned as he flew past them, winking flirtingly. James rolled his eyes. Oh, sure, Orlick. Now you're outgoing.  
He could remember when Greasings was scared to even ask Olga Klambink to the Graduation Dance. Olga had been the most gorrilla-like girl in their graduating class, and guys were scared to come within a given distance of her in fear of her asking them to Hogsmeade. Now he was flashing his winning smile to all of the fans, and acting like a complete idiot.  
Acting a lot like you used to do, huh, James? He thought to himself.  
He smiled to himself, and shrugged, "Well, who would have thought."  
"Thought what?" Sirius asked, half listening.  
"Nothing," James said, shaking his head, and then looking back to the game.  
Greasings was parading around the field now, watching for Bludgers. Whenever he hit one, his girl fans would swoon and scream.  
James's smile diminished, and he let his eyes leave the game to check for the butterbeer vendor.  
His body was seated in the stands. But his spirit was flying with the best of them.  
Birds weren't made to sit, he thought to himself as he tried to ignore Greasing's good hit.  
  
The locker rooms were quiet as James entered. It was completely empty. He was by himself now, without Sirius or the others. He had left them at the entrance. Davey had let him in as a present to go see an old friend. Sirius was trying to avoid Dung, in case Dung had realized that he owed him a good lot of money.  
The old wooden room stood in front of him as he made his way from the entrance. The smell of sweat and wood and straw and dirt flew through the air and into his nose. It smelled just like it did at Hogwarts. Except then it had only been a tent, and there had not been this sweet feeling of victory and fame that mingled with the old smells. Everything was just like he had dreamed it to be.  
The lockers of the Bats were shut and closed, and all of the men had left for their winning celebration. All of the men except for one. A lone and large figure could be seen through the steam, sitting on a bench between two of the lockers. He was dressed in his regular clothes once again, and James had to smile.  
"Orlick Greasings," he said, half laughing, "All grown up."  
Greasings turned around, and his face lit up, "James! Good to see you made it!" he stood and walked to his old friend. They shook hands, and Greasings laughed, "Heard you may be coming. Heard it from Davey, you know."  
"Great job today," James said, "Really showed the Canons."  
Orlick smiled, and nodded, "Yeah, well, not my best game. Sort of embarrassed you saw this one."  
"Better than anyone else on the field, mate," James said, sitting down on the nearest bench.  
"You would have been better," Greasings said, taking his towel from his shoulder and wiping his face off. He looked so young. How could these two be of the same age? This man seemed like a child compared to James's worried and worn face.  
There was a silence that filled the room after his last comment. James shrugged, and smiled sadly, "Yeah, well, people change. And fate deals you a card, and you've got to take it, I guess."  
"Guess so," Greasings said, reaching for a locker, "But fate always dealt you the best of cards. Everyone thought so."  
"How did it feel?" James cut in, not wanting to talk about his dealings. Greasings's expression went from elated to confused, and he opened his locker door.  
"How did what feel?"  
"Everything," James said, looking to him, and yet looking through him, "The crowds. The broom. The flying. How did it feel?"  
Greasings smile returned, larger than before, "Well, you know that better than anyone else does, I think, Potter," he ducked into his locker, and said, "It felt like Heaven."  
James's lip curled, and he nodded, "Yeah, I know."  
"So how's Lily?" he asked, returning to sight with a flask of water and another towel, "Heard you had a baby on the way. Sorry I couldn't be at the wedding. I think it was the same day as my sister's wedding. And you know how sisters can be."  
James chuckled to himself, and saw Wendy's face, "Yeah, I do."  
"So how goes it?" Greasings asked, "Now that you're a married man and all."  
"Scary, but great," James said, "Wouldn't want to be with anyone else."  
Greasings nodded, "How does it feel?"  
James looked at him, and Greasings smiled a wise smile. James's dark wrinkle lines softened, and he smiled again. He sighed, and mussed his hair.  
"Like Heaven." 


	101. Chapter 100: Harry Potter

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: Here's chapter 100! I never thought I'd make it, but I have . . . and I have to thank everyone who's read this far, and who's sent great comments and feedback and hasn't totally abandoned the story after the prologue. Lol. It's the chapter you've all been waiting for . . . Enjoy . . .)  
  
It was late that night as the Ministry car pulled up to the Potter's residence. The lights were on, and James sighed from his seat in the front next to Sirius.  
"Well, here we go," he said, opening his door, and hoisting himself out of the car. It had been a good drive back, filled with song and butterbeers all around. He hadn't had so much fun since graduating. He was still laughing as he made his way up the steps, and Sirius shook his head from the driver's seat.  
"He's in for it," he commented, and Peter and Remus solemnly nodded in agreement.  
James, mussing his hair, opened the door, and sighed, "Here goes nothing," he muttered, and he stepped quietly into the front hall.  
"Lily?" he asked quietly, but no answer came.  
Maybe she was asleep.  
Maybe she had gone looking for him.  
Was she worried about him? Had she stayed up all night and day waiting for him to come home? What if she had gone to the Order, and they were all looking for him and the others?  
What if something had happened to her?  
He would never be able to forgive himself . . .  
"Lily?" he said, a little more frantic, walking into the parlor.  
"James?"  
It was a gruff voice. Nothing like Lily's sweet, soft one. James turned to face the stranger who was exiting his kitchen. An intruder!  
His robes flew open as he brandished his wand and pointed it at the figure in the doorway, "Who are you? What do you want? Where's Lily?"  
"Put that thing away," the figure drew closer and into the light of the candles on the hearth. The jagged face of Frank Longbottom could be seen, and James glared.  
"What do you want?" he spat.  
Frank sighed, and shook his head, "You know, James, before Alice had her child, I was at her side every minute."  
  
"Bully for you," James hissed, "Now where is Lily? What happened?"  
"They took her to St. Mungo's a few hours ago," Frank said, "But I guess that you were too busy joyriding with your chums, as usual, to know that, now weren't you."  
"Why did they take her there?" James asked, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, "What happened? What's wrong?"  
Frank's jagged and handsome face curved into a smile, and he said, "Congratulations. You're going to be a father."  
  
"So how did your meeting with James go?" Sirius asked, thumping his fingers against the wheel of the car. They were waiting to make sure all was well before leaving their boy alone with Morgana.  
Remus looked at Sirius through the review-mirror, and shrugged, "It could have gone better."  
"You two still at ends, then?" Peter asked.  
Sirius groaned, and covered his eyes with his hands. Remus's face grew calm and cool as he tried not to show his emotions to the other two. They could read him like a book. He looked away from Sirius and to the house. The front door was still open, and it had been a while since James had disappeared from sight. Something was wrong. He could feel it.  
"You know what?" Peter said, "I think that James is one lucky man."  
Remus looked from Sirius, and then to Peter, "How so?"  
"Well," Peter said, shifting in his seat, "He has a wife that was worried about him, friends that love him enough to take him out for his birthday, and . . . well, he is in favor of the Ministry, that's for sure. James has always had it lucky, don't you think?"  
"Something's wrong," Sirius muttered, "He hasn't shut the door. He always shuts the door."  
"What?" Remus asked.  
"The lights upstairs aren't on. The lights in the parlor aren't on," Sirius said, "And he still hasn't shut the front door. Something's going on."  
"You don't think that Lily's just a little peeved?" Remus said, "Let's not jump to a conclusion . . ."  
Sirius opened his driver's door and jumped out of the car without another word. Remus sighed and shook his head.  
"Never mind," he said.  
The hot smells of summer drifted into the car as the two remaining passengers waited for the two of them to return. Peter tapped his foot on the floor, and Remus ran his fingers through his strangled hair. There was a pause before Peter said, "Well, you think we should follow him then?"  
"Probably. Knowing Sirius he'll blast the house to Scotland," Remus said, and the two boys opened both their doors to accompany the sprinting figure across the street.  
The three of them entered the house in silence, and the street outside was mute as a light was illuminated from inside. A car passed, and a cat made its way down the suburban path paved out for a sidewalk. The sound of a fire engine could be heard off in the distance, and all was quiet from inside.  
Until the guttural howl of Sirius Black echoed out of the still-open door, down the street, and through the town of England.  
  
"Where is she?" James demanded, as they sped into the lobby of St. Mungo's. He was frantic, and the five men ran to the front desk. James slammed his fist on the counter top of the receptionist's desk and shouted again, "Where's my wife?"  
"And what would your wife's name be?" the nurse asked in a calm manner.  
"Lily Evans . . . I mean, Lily Potter. Her name's Lily Potter. I'm her husband," James said in a frantic tone, "Where is she? I want to see her?"  
"She is in the maternity ward, Mr. Potter," the nurse said, even calmer, "Follow the signs, please."  
"Come on," Frank said, taking James by the sleeve and tugging him away from the desk and to the bright lifts that stood on another wall, "They took Alice there yesterday. I know the way well enough."  
They crowded into the lift, and James gave Frank a look, " It's a boy?"  
Frank, his jagged face not changing but a small smile curling onto his face and breaking the handsome rockiness of his figure, said, "Yes, it's a boy. His name's Neville."  
"Congrats," James said, fidgetting with his cloak. What if something went wrong? What if Lily was hurting and he wasn't there? God, he had been out goofing off at a Quidditch game when he should have been here. He should have driven Lily to the hospital! He should have . . .  
"Who brought her here?" James asked as the lift whizzed higher, and Frank coughed, "I did."  
"Well, thank you," he said. Remus, Peter and Sirius all looked at one another, and then shrugged.  
The lift opened, and James rushed through the hallways, Frank at his heels. The other three tried to keep up, but they were no competition for the Quidditch player and the top Auror of Dumbledore's. They watched as James and Frank spun around a corner, and then slammed the doors open to an entrance reading "POTTER."  
  
"Lily!" James shouted, looking around the room.  
And he saw her.  
She was as beautiful as ever.  
  
It had been three hours. The clock ticked away in the waiting room outside the room. Frank had left a long time ago to go check up on his own bundle of joy down the corridor. Only the three Marauders remained, trying not to go crazy in their waiting.  
Weren't they a scene now? All three of Dumbledore's soldiers, sitting around and trying to make themselves comfortable on the wooden chairs supplied by them by St. Mungo's. Sirius was humming a song to himself. Remus couldn't make out the lyrics very well, due to the drawling tone in his friend's voice. He knew it was something in French.  
"What is that song?" Remus asked quietly, and Sirius snapped to attention.  
"What? You forgot?" Sirius said, spinning around in his seat to look at him, "It's your music box song."  
"That's what I thought," Remus said, "I just didn't think you'd remember it."  
"You played it enough in the dormitory at nights," Sirius said, "Over and over again."  
Remus's smile diminished, and his poker face returned. He looked away from Sirius, and Sirius sighed. He rolled his eyes, and groaned, "Come on, now, Remus. It wasn't like we were really asleep. I never slept at school."  
"I wouldn't have played it if I knew that you were listening," Remus said softly.  
"I kinda liked the tune," Peter said, looking up from a magazine, "It was catchy."  
"Shut up," Sirius snorted, and then turned back to Remus, "Why?"  
"If it bothered you . . ."  
"Whoever said it bothered me?"  
Remus shrugged, "Well, I just didn't think you'd remember it."  
Sirius nodded, somewhat confused, and sighed again. There was another eerie silence that swept the room as the three boys grew quiet once again. Remus had had a dream the night before, while he dozed off waiting for Sirius to come fetch him for the great escape. He had been sitting in his chair, and hadn't intended on falling asleep. But he had, and the dreams had come again. Yet this one was without the wolf, and it was without mysterious teachers behind old wooden desks.  
This one was of a boy. From what it looked like, the boy had been having a party. He was the spitting image of James when he was eleven, hazel eyes and all. He was happy, and healthy, and was blowing out his candles to his birthday cake. Ten golden candles stood like turrets across the icing, illuminating the chocolate frosting that spelled out the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY." Sirius was there. He was hoisting the boy into the air, laughing and threatening to throw him into the tree branches above. Peter was looking at the cake, wanting to not delay the food any longer.  
James had his camera out, and he was hugging Lily.  
And Remus . . . Remus was sitting on the back steps of the Potter's house, holding his present to this big boy that they had all helped raise. And the boy, after Sirius had put him down and he had eaten his first bite of cake, ran to him and hugged him.  
"Happy birthday, Harry," Remus said, smiling, and returning the hug. The embrace wasn't filled with fear or pity. It was a genuine hug.  
This boy didn't care if he was a werewolf or not.  
But that boy was only a dream, he told himself, And dreams aren't real.  
"Have either one of you talked to James about the . . ." Peter cleared his throat, "Well, about his son's . . ."  
"No," Sirius said, "You don't bring the prophecy up with James. Ever."  
Peter nodded, and opened his mouth, as if he was going to add something to the conversation. He closed it again, and then opened it once more for good measure, "Do you believe in the prophecy?"  
Remus, all of a sudden, looked very tired, and rubbed his eyes, "How can't you?"  
God, Sirius couldn't do this any longer! He wanted to just barge in there and give Lily a good talking to about timing. He wasn't baptised yet. They weren't ready. They had put it off.  
Why had they?  
Because they didn't want it to come in July, Sirius thought to himself, They wanted it to come later. Just to spite the prophecy. Then it'd be Longbottom's kid. And the world would leave Harry alone.  
Harry. That was his name.  
James said he looked just like him. He wondered if this was true.  
How would Harry take to him? Would they be like brothers, always there for each other, or more like father and son if James couldn't be there. But of course, James would always be there. He would love Harry with every bit of his heart. And so would Lily.  
No, he would be Uncle Sirius. The man who Harry would run to if his parents fought, or if James didn't agree with him, or if Lily's eye twitched. Uncle Sirius would spoil him to death, and never let anything bad touch him. He wouldn't ever punish him. He wouldn't tell him what to do.  
The boy would be smart enough to do that for himself. Uncle Sirius would give him what he wanted, and more. But never less. He would always be there.  
He would protect him.  
No matter what.  
DONG. DONG. DONG.  
Sirius blinked, and looked at the clock. It was striking midnight. Three strikes.  
"IT'S HERE!" Lily's screaming voice vibrated through the door and into the waiting room, "IT'S HERE!"  
DONG.  
He could hear the screaming of the baby now, and Lily's crying.  
DONG. DONG.  
"It's a boy!"  
DONG. DONG.  
Another scream.  
DONG. DONG.  
Remus stood as the door flew open.  
DONG. DONG.  
James stood, beaming in the entrance of the hospital room, beaming as brightly as ever. Even brighter. He looked happier than at his wedding reception, or even when he was playing Quidditch. A radiant of light illuminated the room as he looked to Sirius, tears welling up in his eyes.  
"He's here."  
In a scooting of chairs and a sound of tennis shoes on the squeaking linoleum floor, the three boys charged forward to James, and followed him excitedly into the room. And that's when the world changed for Sirius.  
There lay Lily, red hair in every direction and her brow furrowed with sweat, sitting in a white smock in her bed, looking as beautiful as ever. But that didn't matter to Sirius. That isn't what he thought was beautiful.  
In her arms lay the bundle that had become such an importance to all of their lives. A child that would possibly change the world. He was so delicate, and so . . . so small. He looked as if he were made of porcelain and the slightest change of wind could knock him over and break him.  
He was beautiful.  
Little tufts of black hair could be seen on his head, and his skin was pink and healthy. He whined, trying to blink his eyes for the first time. He had never seen sunlight before, and all of these new faces and things must be scaring him to death. His tiny hands clasped Lily's smock, and one single tear ran down his little cheek.  
Sirius couldn't take his eyes off of that sight. This was his godson. This was Harry. This was James's child.  
"Sirius, do you know what a godfather is?"  
He could hear the voice of James in his head, from that day so long ago in Frank's office. Was it only a few months ago? It seemed like an eternity away.  
"We were sort of hoping that you would be my child's godfather."  
"Harry," Lily whispered, lowering her head to whisper in her son's ear, even if he couldn't understand her, "I'd like you to meet your uncles."  
Remus and Peter beamed proudly at the tiny thing that she held. Remus's worries drifted away, and a bright smile overtook his poker face. Peter had another sort of expression on his face. One of pure joy, and yet one that seemed like . . . fear.  
But Sirius. Oh, Sirius didn't move. His eyes couldn't stop looking at Harry. He was perfect. He was perfect in every way.  
"That's Remus," Lily said in a cracked voice that was strained by the long hours of labor, "And that's Peter. And this, Harry," she looked at Sirius and her face lit up with trust, "This is your godfather, Harry. Sirius Black."  
Sirius heard his name, and blinked again. No laughs were threatening to escape from his mouth. No tears were gleaming down his face. No smile was seen. Only the innocent expression of a man looking upon something greater than himself. The expression of a man seeing responsibility for the first time.  
James took Harry from Lily, and more tears came. James didn't care anymore about what anyone thought.  
This was his son. This was the child that he would carry through life. They were together, bonded forever. This was Harry.  
"Hello, Harry," he whispered, rocking the tiny bundle in his arms, "I'm your daddy."  
He was a daddy.  
Sirius watched as he saw father and son embrace, and the gentle way that James held his baby. He had never seen his friend, in all of the years that they had known each other, be so careful and so cautious about anything. The little life was fragile, and the slightest movement could end it.  
How could something so small and delicate be the great power that would save England? That would save the world? Grown men had died for the war, and this little boy was supposed to survive?  
He was supposed to finish Voldemort off. Or the other way around. They had all heard the prophecy hundreds of times.  
"Here, do you want to hold him?" James asked Sirius who was now standing closest to him. Sirius nodded, and took the small warm body from James's arms.  
"Support the head," Lily interjected, "And don't touch the top of his scalp."  
"Lily, he's fine," James said assuringly. Sirius hadn't heard a word she said. His eyes were still staring at this perfect creature in front of him.  
Green eyes stared up at him, and he felt himself smile. The cherubic face of the little angel returned the smile as best he could, and then yawned. His chubby little fingers clawed at Sirius's robes, and finally balled his hand into a fist around the woven cloth. And then he closed his eyes, and began to sleep.  
The hot body of the little boy was heavy in Sirius's arms, and Sirius looked down on the tiny hand that grasped his clothes, holding on for comfort. Such a strong fist.  
"Don't worry," Sirius whispered, "It's fine. Nothing's gonna hurt you."  
I won't let it, he thought, I'll never let anything hurt you. I promise.  
"Harry," he said quietly to himself, gently rocking the baby in his arms, "Harry Potter."  
"It's a beautiful name," Peter said, chopping through Sirius's train of thought. James nodded in agreement, and Lily looked to James. She made a motion to her baby, and then raised a brow.  
James cleared his throat, and held out his hands for Harry, "Time to go back to Mummy, Harry."  
Sirius reluctantly handed him over, and his father took him in his robes. Still the hand grasped his cloak for dear life, and finally let go. Harry's eyes shot open, and he whimpered.  
Don't worry, Sirius thought, It's all right.  
Harry blinked, and his small smile returned.  
James, baby in arm, sat on the edge of his wife's bed, and Sirius could hear the faint voices of Remus and Peter congratulating the couple on a beautiful boy. But all Sirius could do was look into those green eyes.  
Nothing's gonna hurt you, he repeated to himself silently. I won't let it.  
Voldemort would be coming for the boy, they all knew that. They all knew that this child's life would be lived in the fear that all of them had experienced during their time in the war. Maybe worse fear than that. But Harry was not safe. Voldemort wanted him dead, and he would do anything to see his wishes carried out.  
Sirius glared, and his face grew dark once again. He felt a responsibility like never before well up in his heart, and his jaw was set.  
  
I'd like to see him try, he thought to himself.  
  
None of the habitants of the hospital room could make out the lone two figures behind the glass of the door, but the unknown visitors could see all that happened from where they stood. If one was to look at them closer, they would have realized that they, themselves, were smiling and congratulating each other on a job well done. They had kept the child alive. They had kept the mother in safety for nine months, and now they had a long trek ahead of them.  
Well, only one of them was smiling. His old and wrinkled face watched through the glass as his eye twinkled and his old worn mouth curled. The headmaster was growing old, and there was nothing to stop his age. It always helped to see new life.  
"I always try to look back and recollect my own birth," Dumbledore informed his colleague, looking thoughtfully at the new baby, "Unfortunately, that was many years ago, and not a single memory exists past seventy years ago."  
"They're in grave danger, Headmaster," the man said. His face could not be seen, due to a cloak that he had been forced to wear. If anyone saw him mingling with this kind . . . with Dumbledore . . . everything would be ruined.  
"I am aware of that, my friend," Dumbledore said, and the darker man stood straighter. My friend. The old man had called him by that name. This was the man that he was to have killed. This was the man who had saved his life, and had asked for nothing in return.  
Yet, there was that bond that bound them together, whether they wanted the bond or not. Dumbledore had saved his life, and he was in debt. There was nothing left to do but nod, and agree with him.  
"They don't know, do they?" the colleague said, talking from underneath the hood. The pain in his arm was becoming stronger. It stung his skin like a serpent's fang. The Dark Lord was calling to his followers. They were planning something for that night. They were to rally the dementors together, and take siege of Azkaban. And yet, Dumbledore would not be there to stop them this time. He was too busy fawning over this little tripe that had come into the world so unexpectedly.  
"No, they don't," the Headmaster sighed, and his eyes grew dim, "Let them have their night of happiness. They are parents, and they need to feel safe just once before they become enraveled in this mess," Dumbledore turned to the hooded man, and his eyes grew deadset on where his colleague's face was hidden, "You are my most trusted source in these times. Did Voldemort hear the entire prophecy?"  
"No, sir," the colleague informed him, "He only knows as much as the world knows. Or as much as his spy heard . . . that spy is dead now."  
The last words of the man were choked out, showing the only bit of fear that he had ever expressed. Dumbledore looked to his friend, and eyed him. His friend was a very brave man, and yet driven by a force darker than anything that he had ever seen. He did not belong on this side of the war.  
"You give your life to us," Dumbledore said, turning from the window completely, and folding his arms, "And yet you do not believe in our cause. I knew you as a child, and I know of your beliefs and your talents and skills in the Dark Arts. Why do you risk so much?"  
"Don't ask me, Headmaster," the hooded man growled, turning away and heading for the waiting room once again, "You know why."  
"Ah," the wise man said, as his accomplice began to walk away, "But do you?"  
The back silhouette of the hooded stranger froze, and sagged. There was another pause before the colleague lowered his head, and balled his fists.  
"Potter's boy is alive and well, sir," he said, "For the time being. I can promise you I will do what I can to keep them all safe."  
"I know you will, Severus," Dumbledore said.  
Severus stiffened, and began to walk again with a quickened pace. And he disappeared around the corner, and out of the Headmaster's sight of vision.  
The Dark Mark still burned on the man's forearm, reminding him of his fatal error.  
To brand the Mark there in the first place. 


	102. Chapter 101: New Beginnings

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The quiet forests were an escape from the true nature of humanity. If one walked into the large evergreen trees and pine needle floors, they could be taken back in time to where their ancestors knew only this environment, and not the bustling concrete-ridden one that we are now accustomed to. In the forest, everything is endless and never-dying. The birds still live in their nests, the trees are hundreds of years old, and the soil is good and rich with life. Everything is as it should be.  
The sun rose on the perfect morning, like the millions of times before. The rays touched the snow-covered ground. There had been a new flurry of white the night before, and it had blanketed the woods in a matter of hours. The crystal surface of the snow gleamed in the dawn's new light, dancing across the banks. The pine trees' branches were caked, and looked ready to break. The small stream in which the deer liked to drink at during the fall had frozen, and the fish underneath were as still as statues. The only thing that brought movement to this scene was the ever- smoking chimney of the nearby cabin. The cloud of gray cicled the rooftop, as if marking the house as something important, and then floated into the air until it became transparent and one with the white clouds above. The windows of the secluded cabin were frosted over, and the wood that would have been used for the fireplace was set into a neat pile. It had never been touched, and now a good two inches of snow had placed itself on top of the pyramid. An axe stood next to the pile, its blade wedged into an old tree stump.  
The porch sported a hand made chair. It did not rock, or swing, or even move. It was just a chair, made with the craftsmanship of a failed carpenter. A windchime sang and danced in the forest wind, and an original carved sign was hanging from one bent nail on the entrance door. It read: JE NE MOURRAI PAS.  
The resident of this small and humble abode was a man that no one in the town knew with any great pleasure, but those who did know him loved him. He was an outsider from the rest of his community, and seemed to spend much time away from home. Every month, one of his unknown and suspicious looking friends would stop by for a visit, and not leave until the next morning. The night would be filled with a bicker, or an argument of some kind. Bottles of liquor crashing, windows broken, and sometimes enormous howls and yelps that made the neighbors think the dog had been kicked. Usually, these friends were men in their twenties, and they looked haggard and tired when they left. One of them was especially fierce, with his jet black long dangling hair, and his hollowed eyes. The neighbors that watched through their windows suspectingly was afraid of that character more than any of the others. There was a rumour about saying that the visitor was some sort of dark wizard who had associates in the war.  
Of course, that was before the man had gotten to know his community with great interest. It seemed as if one day he had returned home, and the dark cloud that circled his cabin disappeared. His closest neighbor, who lived farther into the woods and was the one who usually gossiped about him, was also a wizard that had lost his wife to You-Know-Who a good five years ago. Mr. Grunkins was the old neighbor's name, and he took great pleasure in bringing misery to others. It had been that first day of August that Mr. Grunkins had looked outside his kitchen window, and noticed his neighbor cutting wood. He had started to make the pyramid that now rested with so much snow ontop of it. Grunkins, finding this an amazing feat that the man had come out of his house, decided to continue watching him in fascination.  
The man had set the woodpiles on the side of his house, stuck his axe in the dead trunk, and sat on the lone chair on the porch. Then he had looked out to the woods, taken a deep breath of air, and smiled to himself.  
The man was pale, sickly looking. And yet, he looked like the happiest being on earth. All of his problems were solved, it seemed, and nothing was left to worry about.  
The wood that he had chopped had never been used in the upcoming months, though. No hand had touched the axe again. They lay there, a reminder of the first day of light for their owner.  
Today, their owner lay in bed, unable to move. He was cut in many places, and his face was bruised and battered. His feet were torn, and his stomach sported a large gash. His hair was matted with blood, and he weakly moaned as he deliriously slept. He hadn't slept all night.  
The hollowed eyed man sat next to his bed, watching over him with the loyalty of a dog. He had been there for a good two hours, waiting for his friend to wake from his deep sleep. The sun was shining through the frosted window above the small mattress, covered in a quilt that they had bought in Diagon Alley. It was now torn to shreds, and the fabric was littered with blood and stains. The man, rolled into a sheet, lay his legs on this quilt as he stirred. A large slash on his calf was seen, the blood tricking down to the bedsheet.  
His eyes opened quietly as the dawn sun shone through his window and onto his lids. He painfully blinked, and then looked to his faithful friend, who had his legs sprawled out and his chin resting on his hands. He was just as he had always seen him, or the others, when he awoke from a nightmare. Just like the one he had had.  
"Sirius," Remus moaned, and Sirius shook his head.  
"You've got time, Moony," he said, and bent over to grab something off of the floor. Bandages. Special ones that the Healers had given him, "Don't worry. We don't need to be at James's until afternoon."  
"What time is it?" Remus asked, flinching at the magical wraps that Sirius was applying to his cold skin, "How long have I been out?"  
"It's only seven, mate," Sirius said, ripping a bandage off with his teeth, "We've got time."  
Remus closed his eyes again, and fell back on his pillow. He was so exhausted. If only he could just go to sleep and never wake up.  
But then you'd miss out on Harry's first Christmas, the wolf said, almost mockingly.  
"Yeah," Remus said, muttering to himself as Sirius continued to dress him.  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing," he said, and then opened his eyes once again to look his friend in the eyes, "You don't need to do this. I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself . . ."  
"No, you're not," Sirius said.  
"It's getting better," Remus said, as if trying to somewhat convince himself. He could already hear the wolf laughing, snorting, in the background. Sirius raised a brow, and then sighed.  
"You think?" he asked.  
Remus shrugged, and then closed his eyes again. It had been bad. He knew it had. Not as bad as it used to be, back at the Headquarters . . . but, it wasn't getting any better. Yet, every time he thought about what he was going to do today, the wolf had been thrown underneath the waters once again, and he had been free.  
Harry.  
It will be Harry's first Christmas.  
We'll all be together.  
"Let me start the breakfast," Sirius finally said, setting the bandages back underneath the bed, and standing up. He was wearing his biker boots . . . again. They looked so ridiculous with the rest of his outfit. Remus still hadn't figured out why he had this fascination with anything Muggle and rebellious. But he did.  
His motorbike was parked outside, next to the porch, and covered in a new bank of snow. It had snowed last night. He had seen the flakes fall out of the window, as Padfoot had rammed his head into the pane of glass.  
The wolf had bitten Padfoot on the neck, trying to kill him, and Padfoot had retaliated. It had been harder than what was necessary. The dog had flung the wolf into the window, causing the glass to break and shatter along the top of Moony's head. Remus shuddered, and realized that his scalp was very sore, and Sirius had wrapped his head in the dressings like some sort of Christmas tree.  
"What would you like?" Sirius shouted from the kitchen, "We've got . . . bread, bread, and . . . well, would you look at that? Some more bread."  
"It's been a hard month," Remus said, "You know about the job and all . . ."  
"They don't pay you enough to be Bowling . . ."  
"Bowlering," Remus said, half moaning, half snorting. He rolled over on his mattress, "And it's not a job. It's . . . more of a duty."  
"Well, you should be getting money for that," Sirius said, sticking his head in a cupboard. He was not about to believe that Remus had that short of a supply, "Whatever they call it. It's horrible, I think. Tellin' people that their kids are dead. And their husbands . . ."  
"I'd rather not talk about it on Christmas, Padfoot," Remus groaned.  
"So I guess it'll be bread, then," Sirius said, slamming the cupboard door in surrender, "We have wheat . . . wheat . . . and oh look! There's a white slice at the back of your bread box . . . looks sort of stale, though . . ."  
"I'm not hungry, it's fine," Remus said.  
"Oh, I'm not worried about you," Sirius huffed, "I'm starving. You're not a very good host, you know . . . having only this to serve your guests."  
Remus laughed, and it hurt. He clutched his side. The bandages were stinging, and he couldn't move without pain inflicting his wounds. Scars would begin to show at any moment. And the blood would dry. And he would stand and greet another day. And the memories of broken glass and wolves would die away, until the next full moon. That's how it always was.  
And he could now live with that.  
It was Harry's first Christmas.  
He couldn't miss that for the world.  
"So, nice romp around the pantry last night," Sirius said, coming out of the doorway with two slices of wheat bread in hand, "I think you took out two of your shelves. I had to practically bite your ear off to stay away from the fireplace. You really shouldn't leave that thing on on full moon nights, you know. Moony likes the light or something . . ."  
"I'll remember that," Remus said, and he took his slice. Sirius's hand extended to hand him the bread, and Remus froze. He grabbed the wrist, and shoved his cloak to his elbow. His eyes grew huge as he stared at a huge gash across the arm.  
"My God," he said, his voice shaking, "Did I . . ."  
"Don't worry about it," Sirius said, breaking away, "It was an accident. You pushed me into the broken glass before I could clean it up. It doesn't hurt that much."  
Remus tore a piece off of his slice, and began to eat it, "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be sorry," Sirius said, "You've given me worse. Hell, we're part of the Order. I'm not worried about a little cut."  
"You should use some of my bandages . . ."  
"No," Sirius said, massaging his arm, "They sting."  
Remus laughed again, and finished his breakfast. He sighed, and laid back in his bed. He closed his eyes once again, and flinched. The wrappings were doing their job, that was for sure. His entire body felt like it was going to burn up in one large bonfire. He clutched the side of his bed, and bit his lip. Sirius saw this, and looked away and out to the window.  
"You know," he said, "It snowed last night."  
Remus, through a gasp of air, nodded, "I know."  
"It was definitely white last night," Sirius said, not looking at his friend, "A big blizzard. Hope the bike will start up. If not, we'll be leaving by Floo Powder. You've got some, right?"  
"I keep some . . . over there," Remus said, straining to talk. He hated this part of the monthly ritual. It had been a year ago that the Healers had decided that they could try to treat his wounds by these bandages. He didn't know what else to call them. They came in long white rolls, like Spell-O-Tape, and he had two of them underneath his bed. He used to apply them himself. But now that the guys had started to come again, they had learned how to use them, and they had been a great help.  
The wolf knew they were back.  
He had sunk into the shadows again, and yet . . . he was still there, right behind him. Always whispering in his ear.  
"It draws nearer."  
Remus shook his head, and opened his eyes. The burning sensation was leaving him slowly, and now he would be able to remove the wraps and stand up again on his own. Sirius still wasn't looking at him, and had become very interested in a tapestry laying on the ground.  
"Does it hurt as bad as it looks?" he asked soberly. Remus sighed, and sat up in his bed.  
"Sometimes," he said, "And other times, I can't feel it."  
Sirius nodded, and looked to the window again. The bright sun was peaking over the trees once more, and they would have to leave in a few hours.  
Good, he thought, I hate this place.  
Remus ripped his first bandage off, and threw it on the floor in disgust. If only there was another way. If only there was a way to calm the wolf inside.  
He stared at his new scar, running the length of his upper arm. It was still caked with blood, and it had been deep. He raised a shaking hand to feel his cheek, and tear the bandage off of his skin.  
"Hey, Moony?" Sirius asked, and Remus's eyes slid off of his hands and to the man waiting patiently for him, "Was it always like this?"  
Remus smiled, and shook his head, "No, it wasn't. There were about three years there where I woke up, and nothing had happened."  
Sirius smiled to himself, and nodded, "Yeah. Sometimes I miss those three years."  
"We all do," Remus said, removing his last dressing, "But it's in the past."  
"Yeah," Sirius said, and stood up, "Wonder if Harry'll ever go to the Shack."  
"Of course he will," he said, throwing the quilt off of him. He took his wand from the nightstand, and pointed it to the bed, "Warashio."  
The quilt stitched itself back together, and neatly tucked itself back into place. Everything was just as it had been left the night before.  
"He's James's son," Remus said, reaching for a robe on the chair next to his bed, "James will tell him everything."  
"Probably already has," Sirius said, and stood, "Well, better get to working, hey? Clean this mess up before leaving."  
"Yeah," Remus agreed, and rubbed his eyes, "Let's get going."  
  
It had been packed away for all of these years. Now he gazed upon the perfect silvery cloth that had given him and his friend so many good times when they had been younger. James smiled to himself as he took it from his trunk, and lifted it up to admire.  
Harry lay on his bear blanket, next to him, sucking on his toes and gooing in jibberish. He rolled over, and his eyes grew large at the sight of the cloak. James laughed, and smiled at his son.  
"You know, Harry," he said, "My father gave this to me when I was a kid. And someday, you'll have it."  
Harry cooed, and rolled onto his stomach. He returned the smile, and laughed. James was sitting cross legged on the carpeted floor in the nursery, watching his son while Lily prepared the Christmas dinner. His feet were freezing, since the room was usually colder than the rest of his house, and his toes underneath his bare socks must be turning blue. But Harry wasn't affected. He seemed happy just to have James there with him, talking to him.  
And James was happy just to have Harry.  
"A lot of stories behind this cloak, kid," James laughed sadly, and folded it neatly, "But that's for another Christmas. You wouldn't understand. Not yet."  
It had snowed the night before, when Lily and James had put out the presents for Harry and for each other. James had wrapped Lily's all by himself. It was their second Christmas together, and their first Christmas as a family.  
Harry reached for a teething toy that they had bought him at Diagon Alley when they had gone Christmas shopping. It was shaped like a broomstick, and it was supposed to have an ever-lasting taste of sugar and chocolate. James didn't know if this was true or not, because he had never tasted the teething toy himself. And after his son had slobbered all over it for about a month, he didn't feel like trying it now.  
"You know," he said, "That's going to spoil you into thinking we'll give you sweets whenever you want them." Harry didn't pay any heed to James's words, and James smiled, "And you'll be right, I guess."  
"Hey! James!" a voice called down from the steps on the first floor, "Peter's here!"  
"Send him up!" James shouted back through the closed door, "Unless he wants to help you in the kitchen!"  
Lily laughed, and muffled voices were heard. Then someone climbing up the stairs, and through the hall.  
Soon the door opened, and there stood Peter, looking very pale. Large circles were under his eyes, and he rubbed them as he smiled weakly at James.  
"You look great," James said, sarcastically, and Peter gave out a small laugh.  
"Work," he said, "Didn't feel too good last night."  
Harry cooed, and flexed his hand, smiling. Peter didn't look at the baby, and continued to stand in the doorway, looking at James, "The dementors aren't coming back, they said. Ever since last August . . ."  
"It's Christmas, I don't want to hear about it," James cut him off, and took Harry in his arms and set him on his lap. Harry made a laughing noise, and Peter swallowed hard, "You know," James continued, "You need a Christmas, from the way you're acting. Look in the mirror. They must be running you ragged at the Ministry."  
Peter looked in the mirror, as he was told. He always did what he was told. He stared at himself for a moment, as if really examining the man in front of him. He balled his hands into fists, and swallowed again. He seemed not to like what he saw.  
"Yeah," he said simply, and then sat in the rocking chair of the nursery, "Yeah, they are."  
Harry made a sound that resembled a whine, and he extended his hand to Peter. Peter didn't react to the child, and looked to the mirror again. Shaking, he looked away.  
"Are you all right, Wormtail?" James asked, and Peter nodded.  
"Just haven't been getting much sleep, that's all."  
James looked to his son again, and smiled, "Every day I look at him, and every day I can't believe how big he's getting," Peter nodded solemnly.  
"Yes," he said, "I know. He's getting . . . to be . . . very big."  
"Four months," James said, laughing as Harry grabbed a lock of his father's hair and yanked it, "Four months and he's already as strong as ever. You're going to be a strong boy, aren't you, Harry?"  
Harry cooed again, his big green eyes blinking up at his dad's hazel ones.  
"He's got Lily's eyes, that's for sure," Peter interjected.  
James nodded, "But he looks like his old dad. Don't you think?"  
Peter swallowed again, and forced a smile, "A spitting image, really."  
Harry smiled contently, and sank into his father's lap. It was warm and comforting there, in his arms and under his vigil. He yawned, and continued to suck on his toy. Peter watched the baby with fascination, as if he were looking upon some greater power that could lash out and smight him at any minute. James realized that Peter had always had this reaction toward his son. Even the day that Harry was born, Peter shrank back in somewhat fear. He knew why. The prophecy.  
It had overshadowed everything to do with the child. And yet, Harry was his son, and he loved him unconditionally. Even if their lives had been put in grave danger, and they had been warned by Dumbledore to move and go into hiding, they had not. He still remembered the night that Dumbledore took him aside from an Order meeting, and had spoken to him in private.  
"You have shown your loyalty to me, James," he had said, "Now is the time to surrender your heart, and begin to take consolation in your mind. You have a son, James. And that son is what we are giving our lives for."  
"I do the same thing," James said, "But not for all of the same reasons as you and the others."  
"I understand that," Dumbledore said, his face grey and tired, "But your duty is not to your pride. It is to your son. You must keep him safe."  
"My duty is to my son, Dumbledore," James said, trying to stay respectful, "That's why I'm here. So he doesn't have to hide. I won't teach my son to hide."  
"Just like your father? He obviously did not teach his son humility, either," the old Headmaster said. James had fallen silent, not wanting to lose his temper again. He had learned from Frank those months ago to keep his mouth quiet. Dumbledore had seen the damage that he had done, though. He saw the impact he had made. He let it burn and writhe inside of James's heart before continuing, "A life without humility is one large deceitful hubris. It has no meaning, and it will never have any kind of conclusion that is worth praising."  
"My father died . . ."  
"Exactly," Dumbledore interrupted him, "Your father died."  
James hadn't said another word. Sirius and Lily had been waiting at the door for him, and he had followed them out into the cold streets of the suburbs.  
He could walk away from Dumbledore, but he couldn't walk away from his words.  
"Your Father Died."  
Dad's dead, he had told himself, I don't have a father. I don't have a mother. Everyone that was close to me is gone.  
Did he really want Harry to live through that? Did he want his son to feel that pain of having to see his parents dead, laying on the bed beside each other, never to wake again?  
He had been thinking about his dad again. And his mother, more than ever. He had been laying in his bed the other night, and he had caught a whiff of Lily's perfume. It smelled like Mum's scent. That motherly smell that had been all over her clothes, and all over her bed. He remembered her reading to him in their large canopy bed, reciting poems and fairy tales that only a little boy could hold to be true. He had remembered all of this as he drifted off into a dream. He couldn't remember what exactly the dream was about, but when he woke up, he was bawling, and Lily was rocking him in her arms. This just made him cry even more, and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom. He didn't want Lily to see him like that.  
His mother had been such a wonderful woman, and he had taken her for granted. He had never told her that he loved her. He couldn't remember a single time that he had just kissed her on her cheek, and said, "Thank you, Mum." And now they were gone. Forever.  
And his father. His dad had been so proud of his son. He remembered when he first started on the Quidditch team, all Dad could do was write Uncle Charlie and family friends, telling them how wonderful James had been. It hadn't been until those last years that Dad had grown distant . . . they had always been so close . . .  
He didn't want Harry to feel this pain. He wanted Harry to have a good life. He wasn't going to split the family. He was going to keep them together and fight. He would never give up. They had stayed firm, and they would continue to. They were a family. Not only Lily, Harry, and him . . . but the boys as well. Remus, Sirius, and Peter were always welcome at their house.  
Dementors had fled from Azkaban the night of Harry's birth. Now they lurked in the far corners of alleys, and even the bravest souls wouldn't venture out by themselves. A dark and severe black shadow hung over the streets of England, worse than before. The coldness and foul smell that comes along with dementors could be felt from every front door, and every sidewalk. The world was coming to an end, and there was nothing that the Order could do to end the misery.  
Death Eaters were growing in size. The wonderful lives that Dumbledore and his army had tried to save were dying. Everything was broken, in shatters . . .  
And yet, James had never been happier in his entire life.  
His love for his son blinded him in a way that nothing else could. Harry was the morning, noon, and night. Everything had to do with Harry. Even Sirius had discovered that Harry came up in every conversation that they had now; from the conversations relating to Quidditch ("Harry'll play for Gryffindor, I'm sure"), to the conversations relating to the weather ("Harry caught a cold last night from the winds"). Everything was about Harry. Harry Harry Harry.  
But the boys felt this attraction to Harry just as much as his own father did. Lily hardly had any time to hold her baby with four men gallomping around the house, wanting to see him. Well, three, excluding Peter. As James realized now, Peter had never been too fond of holding Harry. He never had fed Harry. He had never wanted to look at Harry. He was scared of the prophecy, they all knew. He was scared of Harry.  
And what may happen to him.  
Sirius and the little baby had taken a good liking to each other. Sirius would transform into a dog to tease the small child with his long bushy tail, or to drag him into the kitchen. Harry had fallen in love with Padfoot, and he was beginning to recognize the dog more than the man himself (if there were any distinction between their mannerisms).  
Remus was wondering how James would bring Harry up in the ways of his kind. James didn't know why there was even a question. He would bring him up the way he thought best: explain his friend's problem to his son in detail, and let Remus speak freely of it while interacting with the boy. That way it wasn't a deep dark secret, and Harry would realize that there was a man inside of the monster that attacked Remus every month.  
Even if he himself was having doubts on that fact. He still remembered the low, sullen face of Lupin on the train the day before Harry's birth. There had been no humanity there. There had been no flicker of hope that Remus had always had. Yes, Remus had improved over the past four months, and the color in his cheeks had returned. They were accompanying him again on their monthly obstacle, and right as James stood there in the nursery, he knew that Sirius was helping Remus tend to his injuries.  
Lily. Oh, and Lily was a wonderful mother. Of course, she was young, and had much to learn. But Mrs. Evans was more than happy to take the baby for a few hours each week to let her daughter have a rest. She would visit frequently, reminding Lily of all the things she was doing wrong and how to fix them.  
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Evans had said once, running into the kitchen as Lily started a meal for Harry, "No, no, no, honey-blossom. You don't give babes like that hard food, dear. He's too young. He should still be on the bottle, or something like that."  
"It's just applesauce, Mum," Lily had protested.  
"No, Lily dear, now really," Mrs. Evans said, "I remember when your father tried to spoon feed you your first solids. Well, you were three months old, not as old as Harry dear, but young all the same. Well, it was a mess. You're doing it all wrong. Don't try to make him grow up too fast, dear. Take it slow. Take your time. Enjoy the roses while they're still buds. If you make them grow, dear, them roses will be rebelling against you, off in their own world and never able to come back, dear. Just remember that. Don't tell him what to do, and for Merlin's sake, Lily honey, if he ever comes home with a piercing, rip it out by the stub. That's what we did with Petunia when she went and got her ears pierced. Do you remember that? In grammar school? Oh, she must have only been eight or nine. Her and a few friends had gone and done it to themselves. She wanted to grow up so fast. And she did. And now look at her! At home, washing the dishes and taking care of that fat lard that sits in his office all day. She just had a child, too, dear. Did you receive the card? No? Well, it was lovely, really. His name is Dudley. A little on the round side. Takes after his father . . ."  
Mr. Evans blamed Lily's "misfortune" on James. It didn't matter how much brown nosing and complimenting James did now, Mr. Evans had forever sworn a vendetta against him. But Mrs. Evans was willing to help out whenever she could. She had even spoken of moving in with them (much to James's protests).  
They would not be coming over for Christmas dinner, though. Sadly enough, the Dursleys (Petunia's in-laws) and the Evans's were getting together for a big feast at Petunia's new house. Oddly enough, Lily and James had not been invited.  
The past four months had been like from a dream. Everything had been perfect, with a few setbacks here and there. Yet, James was happy and content as he sat in the nursery, cradling Harry in his lap and watching Peter fidget with his cloak on the side of the small cradle.  
Yes, life had been good to James. No more thoughts of glorious runs on broomsticks filled his mind. No more dreads of countless nights with faceless enemies, all wanting to kill him and his child. He was numb to the world, except for the love that radiated off of his son that now sat in front of him.  
He was ignorant of anything that did not include Harry.  
  
"Damn," Sirius said, kicking his bike. A sheet of snow fell to the ground from the handlebars, "Well, don't you just love that. Damn bloody bike won't run."  
Remus shut the door behind him, and threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder. His mittens were in place, and his face was already becoming quite pink from the outside. He had never been very compatible with cold weather, Sirius thought. Remus gave a sigh as he saw the snowbound motorbike and his friend kicking it in frustration.  
"Well, I guess it's Floo Powder, then," he said, and opened the door again to let them in. Sirius, giving one last long look to his bike, followed his friend into the house and over to the fireplace.  
"She'll be all right by tomorrow morning," Remus said, "The snow on her will have thawed overnight, and she'll be ready to go."  
"I don't know," Sirius said, glancing out of the window, "One of the animals'll get her or something . . ."  
"The animals don't come near the cottage anymore," he interrupted, and grabbed a handfull of powder, "They know better."  
Sirius laughed, giving one more look to his bike, stepped into the fireplace where Remus had just disappeared from. He grabbed his own hand of Floo Powder, and followed him.  
In and out of tinsel covered hearths, soot rode up in his mouth, and he coughed. The spinning stopped quickly, and he found himself tumbling out of the fireplace and into the Potter's main room. Remus was already tidying himself up, and Lily was walking into the room, apron on and oven mitt on her hand. Sirius laughed, and stood to his feet.  
"You are a Muggle born," he chortled, and Lily took no offense. She gave him a sarcastic look, and threw the oven mitt at him.  
"Listen, you're early, so I could do with a bit of help," she said, "The goose is almost finished. If you could just . . ."  
"Padfoot? Is that you?" James's voice sounded from the top of the stairs.  
"Ah, and look, I'm being called for," Sirius said, charging out of the room and up the stairs, "Coming!"  
Lily sighed, and turned to Remus, "Well, you'd help, wouldn't you?"  
"Yeah," Remus said, following her into the kitchen, "What would you like me to do?"  
Lily pointed to the table in the parlor, adjoining with the kitchen, "You can start to set the table. Set it for eight and two babies. The high chair's are in the pantry."  
Remus nodded, and went to retrieve the high chairs, "I'm guessing Frank and Alice are coming?"  
"Oh, and the Headmaster," Lily added, "Dumbledore said he'd be here around five o' clock. What time is it?"  
"Around three," Remus said, "So he's not going to the school feast this year?"  
"He seems to think that he should be here for James," Lily said, "Wants to talk to him about something important. Not really sure what, but I told him it wouldn't be the greatest idea to spring something on James tonight. We have an Order meeting soon, and we don't need Christmas to be filled with it."  
Remus laughed, and tugged the two high chairs out of the pantry, "I sense some spite in your voice."  
"Hmm," Lily said, pursing her lips and stirring something in a large bowl, "The Order can wait for Christmas to be over."  
"Why aren't your parents coming tonight?"  
"They're over at my sister's."  
"Ah," Remus said, nodding, and continued to drag the chairs to the parlor.  
"And where are your parents?" Lily said, "You never talk about them anymore. Why aren't you with them?"  
"They're off vacationing, enjoying their retirement," Remus said, "I write to them, and they write back. That's enough, believe me."  
"You don't get along with them?"  
"It's not that," he set the chairs in their places, "It's just that they still think I'm eleven. They just can't understand I'm grown now, and that I don't want their money . . ."  
He stopped, and Lily looked at him with that eye. Remus had slipped, and she knew it. He tapered off, and went back to the kitchen for plates. Lily quit stirring, and set her bowl down. She looked at him warily as he crossed out of the kitchen and back to the parlor.  
"Remus . . ."  
"But I just am glad they aren't here," Remus said, "I'd rather spend it with all of you, and Harry . . ."  
"Remus, we always are willing to help you out, if you need help . . . James and I . . ."  
Remus stopped setting the table, and his face went blank again. He shook his head, and turned to face Lily, "I'm fine. I'll manage."  
"You're our friend, Remus," Lily said, crossing to him, "If you ever needed any sort of help, we'd give it to you."  
"I said I'll manage," Remus said quietly, "But thank you, Lily. That's very generous of you."  
Lily sadly smiled, and nodded. She patted her good friend on the back, and continued with the preparing of the feast. Remus then proceeded to finish setting the table, and all was back to the way it had been a few minutes ago.  
Remus's head was racing. She was willing to give up money to help him. God, how could he had been so stupid as to think they didn't care about him? He smiled to himself as he put the last plate in its spot, and walked back for the silverware.  
  
The night was cold as the group sat down by the Christmas tree, to hand each other their gifts before the four welcomed guests arrived at their house. Lily and James sat on the couch, Harry sitting in his mother's lap, content. Remus had claimed the chair, and Peter had found his way to the piano bench. Sirius was sitting on the floor in front of all of the presents, rubbing his hands together like a little boy.  
"Okay, then," he said, grabbing the first gift, "Here we go. This one goes to . . . Remus."  
"How come he always gets to play Santa?" Peter asked, with a trace of a whine.  
"Because he called it," James said, "Now shut up and pay attention."  
Sirius threw the box wrapped in red paper to Remus, and he caught it. It rattled, and he looked to the nametag.  
From: James and Lily  
To: Moony  
He smiled, and tore off the paper to reveal a small black book, with the word "JOURNAL" entitled in gold on the cover. He smiled, and looked to the wedded couple.  
"Thank you," he said, and Sirius dug into the next present.  
"Ah," he said, revealing a lopsided gift covered with Spell-O-Tape and different sorts of paper, "This one's from me to Harry. Here you go, Harry," he threw it to James, and then leaned back on his palms to admire the delight of a baby, receiving a stuffed toy. The animal was a black puppy dog, and it flopped when the little boy grabbed it in his hands and laughed.  
"I think he likes it," Sirius said, beaming, and James nodded, "Just to think of a name for it."  
"Well, that's easy . . ." Sirius started, but Peter cut him off before he could finish his sentence.  
"Well, I had a stuffed pet rabbit once," Peter said, "We called him Snuffles, since me dad got him for me when I had a bad cold . . ."  
Sirius just looked at Peter in amazement, mouth hung wide open. How could anyone be that idiotic? But Lily, seeing the look that Sirius was giving him, jumped in before he could say anything.  
"I think Snuffles is a wonderful name," she said, and Sirius shot her a hurt look, "Don't you?"  
Sirius glared at her, but reluctantly nodded, "Yeah, Snuffles. Great name."  
"Give me one, Padfoot!" James said, still laughing about his son's new toy and the name it had been christened with. Sirius sighed, looked back at the pile, and grabbed a package wrapped in brown paper. It was from Remus to James.  
"Here you go," Sirius chucked the package at James's head, and he caught it in mid air. His Quidditch skills were still visible under the demeanor of a father. James opened it, and held it up for all to see.  
"It's an evil eye," Remus explained, as James inspected it. It was a purple circle, with a large blue eye staring out at the living room, unblinking, "It's supposed to keep evil spirits away. Thought it may be something to hang outside Harry's door."  
James's laughing subsided, and his smile faded. There was a quietness that seized them all of a moment. Remus hadn't meant his present to mean anything important. Remus had always been interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts in school, and it had been from a shop in Diagon Alley that they had visited during their trip last weekend. He hadn't mean anything by it.  
Peter, in his complete ignorance, threw a pillow at Sirius, "Come on now! On with the gifts!"  
James set the evil eye on the coffee table, as if it were some sort of evil creature that would jump up and bite him in the face. There had been many of these quiet moments during Harry's small lifetime. They came, and passed as silently as they were lived out. But it was just a constant reminder that someday Harry would face his fate, like all of them.  
Fate.  
Fate was such an interesting idea. James had never truly thought of what it meant. Each one of them, in this room, was ascribed to fate. Fate had brought them together, and fate would throw them into their future. Where would they be in ten years? What would they do after the war? How many of them would make it out of the war?  
Only fate could tell.  
Only fate would be the one to decide if Harry won his battle. Only fate would decide if Remus's wolf would be conquered. Only fate could tell.  
  
"Here's another one," Sirius said, "And it looks like it goes to Harry."  
"Why are all of them for Harry?" Peter asked, somewhat whining.  
"Father Christmas doesn't like you. Now shut up, Snuffles," Sirius retorted, and threw the large box to James, missing Lily and Harry by inches.  
"Watch it, Padfoot!" James said as Lily jumped and shot Sirius a glare. Sirius shrugged, and James unwrapped the gift for his son. He knew perfectly well what it was. Him and the boys had picked it out for the nursery last weekend. Still, Lily was surprised when it was revealed to her for the first time. A small mobile, with owls flying on their strings, revolving around and around on their plastic supporters.  
"We found it at a Muggle shop," Remus said, "We thought you may like it."  
Lily smiled, and took the mobile to show her son. Harry cooed, and reached for the closest owl with his chubby hands. He grinned, and Lily let him hold his new ornament as she looked to Remus and the others.  
"Thank you," she said, and they all nodded.  
That's when the door opened, and the screaming of another baby was heard. The flushed faces of Frank and Alice appeared in the front hall, ear muffs and cloaks draped over their snow-ridden hair.  
"Happy Christmas!" Alice exclaimed as she revealed her baby boy from underneath her cloak.  
  
"Are you sure you don't need any help, Lily?" Alice asked, shouting over Neville's screaming. Harry sat next to him, blinking, confused. How could anyone act like that? Sirius laughed as he saw the expression on his godson's face, and patted Frank on the back. They were standing at the kitchen entrance as Alice got the babies situated for the feast. Frank was holding a butterbeer in his hand, and Sirius was going on his third bottle.  
"Looks like they're getting along fine, hey Longbottom?" he said, rather loudly. Frank smiled wryly, and took a step towards the table.  
"Hey, Alice, dear," he said, trying to hear himself over his son's tantrum, "How about you start feeding Neville now? He doesn't have to wait."  
"He'll eat when the rest of us eat," Alice argued, sitting down next to the two high chairs, "He has to learn some manners."  
  
"He's hungry, Alice," Frank said, raising his voice as Neville continued screaming, "Just make him stop!"  
Remus walked down the stairs, his face wet, and his hands being dried on a cloth. His bangs dripped with water, and Peter, standing in the far corner of the filled dining room, spotted him first.  
"You feelin' all right, Moony?" he asked quietly. Remus nodded, and threw the cloth on the counter of the kitchen as he disappeared.  
"Haven't been feeling too well lately," his voice came from the kitchen, "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, James! I'm leaving!"  
"James!" Lily squealed from the kitchen, and James laughed. His voice wasn't as loud as Sirius's was, but it was getting there sure enough. Remus, his face red and his eyes closed, ran out of the kitchen and took his seat across from Harry. Lily came stumbling out of the kitchen, and gave another laugh as she spotted Frank staring at her from the cabinets. She was holding the deviled eggs and tripe, trying to balance them as James ran after her and out of the kitchen. It was a madhouse, and still not all of the guests had arrived.  
"Albus is running late," Frank announced as James brought out the goose and set it in the middle of the table, "He'll be arriving shortly. Don't worry."  
"Well, we shouldn't start without him," Alice said.  
"He wouldn't want us to wait," Sirius blurted out, flopping down between Remus and James. James took his rightful place at the end of the table, ready to carve the goose. His lady sat across from Sirius and next to him, dutifully taking her spot next to Harry. Neville ceased to scream as he saw the goose, and his greedy hands started to reach for the tempting food in front of him. Alice slapped his wrist, and he drew it back with a small whine. He fell silent as Frank took his spot across from James at the other end of the table.  
"Well, are we all set?" he asked, sinking into his chair. Peter scooted between Dumbledore's empty chair and Remus, and blushed as Frank shot him a discerning look.  
"Now we are," Sirius said, his voice taking on the same drawling tone as Mundungus.  
"Would you like to do the honors, Frank?" James asked, and Frank stood in his proud manner.  
"Here's to new life," Frank said, looking at the two new cherubs babbling to each other in their high chairs, "And new beginnings."  
"To new beginnings!" the company sounded, and raised their full wine glasses for a toast.  
"Well, everyone," James said, holding up his carving knife, "Happy Christmas."  
The goose was served, and the scents and smells of the good food filled the room until all of the guests were smothered in the goodness of wine and company. The candles glowed from their places between the mashed potatoes and tripe, and everything was as if it had come from some sort of Christmas card.  
Sirius took his wine glass, and filled it with butterbeer. Harry watched his godfather from across the table as he saw Sirius punch James on the shoulder and say something around the lines of, "Remember the time when Avery thought we were in cahoots with Peeves?"  
The candle's light flickered in Harry's eyes, and he stared, fascinated with this man before him. Sirius, in mid sentence, saw the little boy gawking at him, and he made a face. Harry's smile grew, and he made a "gaa" sound. Sirius stuck his tongue out, and Harry laughed. He had James's laugh.  
"Stop it," Lily said, grinning herself, "You're teaching him bad manners."  
"Oy, Lily," Sirius said, raising his glass, "You really need to calm it down. You're . . . you're . . . what's the word I'm looking for, Moony?"  
Remus looked up from his goose, and shrugged, "Immaculate?"  
"That's it," Sirius said, slapping his leg, "That's the word. You're immaculate, Lily. Completely immaculate."  
  
"So, Remus," Alice said between feeding her son and feeding herself, "What have you been up to these past months?"  
"Nothing much," Remus said truthfully, "Tidying up the house, working, the usual."  
There was a clatter of a plate, and then a crash. Lily stood up, and looked at her son in annoyance.  
"Oh, Harry!" she sighed, tired, and Harry laughed and clapped his little hands together. His glass bowl filled with applesauce was now smashed on the ground, and the shards scattered under the table. Lily, looking older than before, gave a groan, and bent down under the table. She took her wand out, "Repairo."  
"You know," Alice said, as Lily returned the repaired glass bowl to the high chair's tray, "You should get some plastic plates for Harry. He may hurt himself. And applesauce isn't the best thing to be giving a tyke his age . . ."  
"I can handle it," Lily said, sitting back down in her chair, "But thank you."  
Peter looked from Neville, and then back to Harry. Neville was now whining to be let down, and Harry grinned mischeviously as he reached for Neville's bottle. Sirius could swear the boy had the same look of marauding in his face that James had had when he had first met him. It was amazing, the similarities between the father and the son. They almost were identical, except for those green eyes that danced with life. No, those were Lily's eyes. Radiant emerald, shining through the growing locks of black hair. Harry was a beautiful baby, with a very mischevious disposition.  
"Harry, no," Lily said, grabbing Neville's bottle from her son and handing it to Alice, "You have your bottle. Here. Take it. You have yours. That's Neville's."  
"Keeping your hands full, hey, Lily?" Frank said, starting to lose his soldier-like stance as the night drove on. He was grinning for the first time since he had arrived, "Boys can be a trial, that's for sure."  
"We've already had our run-ins with Neville here," Alice said, patting her son's head, "Up in the middle of the night, crying for his daddy."  
"More like his mother," Frank huffed, taking a drink of his wine, "And my mother isn't very helpful, let me tell you."  
"Now she's a perfectly fine woman, Frank," Alice said, laughing at Frank's sour face.  
"You didn't live with her," he muttered between drinks, and then set his glass down on his table, "But, as her son, I shouldn't talk ill of her."  
"Oh, I talk ill of my mum ritually," Sirius said, setting his tenth butterbeer on the table with a slam. Remus gave him a curious look, and Sirius wiped his face on his sleeve, "She was a tyrant, she was."  
"My mum always was proud of me," Peter said, "Still is."  
Everyone looked at Peter, and Peter shrugged, "What?"  
"The mother is the hardest job," Alice commented, as Neville whined again, "Surely you would know that, Lily."  
"Yes," Lily said, taking James's hand in hers, "It's a trial every day. But worth every minute."  
"Father isn't very good, either," Sirius said, slapping James on the back ("oof!"), "James here tells me every day how . . ."  
"And I think that that'll be the last bottle for you," Remus said, grabbing the butterbeer out of Sirius's clutches, "Give it up, Sirius."  
"And that's Remus for you," Sirius said, jabbing a thumb at his friend, "Always fatherly himself."  
Remus stopped, and bit his lip. He took the bottle, and set it on the other side of the plate. James looked to Sirius, and then Remus. He then quietly cleared his throat, and grabbed the carving knife once more.  
"Anyone want to go for seconds?"  
  
Frank and Alice left after dinner, and the five remaining guests waved from the Potter's front door. Lily held Harry in her arms, and smiled as they watched the couple with their own child make their way down the snow- covered streets to their transportation.  
Dumbledore still hadn't come.  
And no one worried.  
For it was Christmas. And Christmas always blinds the troubled. 


	103. Chapter 102: Long Live the Order

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The snow was caked outside the windows the next morning, when James woke from his place next to his wife. He took in a deep breath, and smiled at the ceiling. The gently falling flakes caught his eye from the panes, and he watched the flurry silently dance in the wind. It had been the second snowstorm in the past two days.  
Harry yawned from his crib, next to Lily's side of the king sized bed. James sat up, and mussed his hair. His little boy looked like a peach fuzz without having his glasses on. And Lily looked like a sunrise, with her red hair waving in every direction.  
He remembered the vow that he had made to her on her wedding day. That he only would ask to see her shining face next to his every morning for the rest of his life.  
He must have been in Heaven.  
  
"Sirius? Could you take these papers to Crouch's office?" Frank said, levitating a file folder from the table and directing them toward Sirius's direction. Sirius caught them, and nodded.  
He turned out of Kingsley's cubicle, where they had been speaking about random things that working men spoke of before the lunch break was completely over. He sighed, and made his way through the maze of cubicles and smiling faces to reach the back of the office. Past the huddle of solemn faces, sporting bowler hats, and past the only solemn face he knew. The two men acknowledged the other one, and Remus smiled weakly.  
The Bowlers were to go bowlering again this afternoon.  
Sirius shut his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the flags that were now being passed out and distributed between the Ministry officials and Remus. He sighed again, and continued to walk away.  
Remus watched him with interest as Sirius disappeared behind a large wooden door reading CROUCH. The door shut, and Remus was drawn into the conversation of the schedule and number of houses that they needed to visit that afternoon. The crowd was already dispersing, though, and he found himself being drawn away from the meeting place and to the lifts that were on the other side of the large room.  
It was another day, filled with crying relatives and flags being posted on the glass windows, staring out to the world from inside the mourning houses. The black curtains would be pulled on almost every street now, in respect for the dead.  
And yet, it didn't bother him. He had grown immune. He wanted to smile at the families, and say, "It's almost over. We're winning. There's hope. Neville and Harry will save us."  
He wondered how it would all happen. He wondered how Harry could take down the Dark Lord.  
"Lupin!"  
Remus shot his head to the left, to come face to face with Kingsley. Remus nodded subtley, and Kingsley nodded back. He had a pile of papers in his hand, and he frowned at them increduously.  
"Do you have a minute, Lupin?" Kinglsey asked, and Remus nodded, looking quietly down at the pile of small flags in his hand, "Have you seen Bones around here anywhere today?"  
"No," Remus said, looking to his colleague, "Edgar hasn't been in the entire morning."  
"That's what I thought," Kingsley said, frowning again at the papers, "Edgar has never had a day off for a reason that I didn't know about. And I haven't heard from him."  
"Maybe he's off on holiday, still," Remus offered, "He has a family, doesn't he?"  
Kinglsey nodded, and rubbed his bald scalp, "I don't know. I just don't know. Has anyone else been gone? Have you heard from Albus yet?"  
"Nothing," Remus said, looking secretly around to many sure no one was listening in, "He never came to Christmas. I don't know."  
"Well, I'm going to bring it up with Mad-Eye," Kingsley said, shuffling away, "Two of ours gone in one week. I don't understand. And one of them the Headmaster . . ."  
Remus waved a goodbye to Kingsley as they went their separate ways, and Remus continued to the lift. A good amount of stops today. And then he wouldn't have to go for another week. Well, it would be a chance to get out in the sun. Dementors didn't like the sun. And they didn't like werewolves.  
  
He remembered when he had to leave Sirius's the night before, and Sirius had been leery to let him go by himself. He had assured his friend that the dementors wouldn't give him any trouble. It was a small unknown myth that Remus had created. One Dark Creature to another . . . he didn't know if the theory was true. He didn't want to find out for sure, but he wasn't about to go buddying up every time he stepped outside his front door.  
The lift door opened, and he was taken out of his thoughts by the sight of Peter, standing in front of him, looking scared out of his wits. It was a frightening sight, the poor little man with a white face, and his shaking hands. He was terrified, and he ran to Remus and embraced him. Remus doubled over and out of the lift doors, and he dropped the flags in surprise.  
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, prying Peter off of him, and taking a good look at his old friend. Peter didn't look him in the eyes, but stared at his feet instead.  
"Moony, I . . . I need to talk to you," he stammered, grabbing Remus's hand and dragging him into the cubicle maze, "I . . ."  
Peter stopped, and looked over Remus's shoulder. There he was. Nott. Mr. Nott, watching him. Nott had gone to school with him, and now . . . and now he was here working at the Ministry. He hadn't known he was to be here. Nott was glaring at him. Glaring. Warning.  
"I . . . not here," he decided quickly, and pulled Remus into an empty cubicle who's walls were lined with the pictures of caught Death Eaters.  
"What's going on?" Remus asked. He leaned over to become eye to eye with his shorter friend, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
"We're still in this war, right?" Peter said, "Forever alive, right? We're friends still, right?"  
"Yeah, of course," Remus said, studying Peter. What was he talking about. Why was he so frantic.  
"And nothing would ever change that?" Peter asked, pleading with his blinking eyes. Remus nodded, and Peter gulped.  
"I . . . I've gotten into something . . ." Peter whispered, almost so quiet that he himself couldn't hear his words, "I've gotten into something that I can't get out of . . . And . . ."  
"Lupin! Pettigrew!"  
Peter jumped, and gave a little yelp. Remus stood up, and they both looked to the entrance of the cubicle. There stood Frank and Moody, with Kingsley behind them, all looking solemnly at the two boys.  
"Oh no!" Peter squeaked, and hid behind Remus, "I'm sorry! I . . ."  
"Quit your whimpering, Pettigrew," Moody snarled, and Frank lowered his head, "There's an emergency meeting. Now. Let's go. Dumbledore's already there with Minerva. They're waiting."  
  
Moody's house looked even more dim than it had before. Something had happened. Everyone could feel it as they entered in their own ways. Some by Floo Powder, some by Portkey, and some by the front door. They all congregated inside at their regular places as they waited for Dumbledore or whoever may be addressing them.  
"Moody, what's this all about," Dorcas demanded. Moody didn't answer, but only took his own seat. He would not be speaking.  
Lily took James's hand, and Remus watched them slowly. Everything that day seemed to have played all in fast motion. But now, it was speeding. On the days that Remus looked back on that day, he could remember hardly anything. All he knew was that Frank had arrived, and also had taken his place. And then, Dumbledore had entered, looking ashen faced and defeated.  
Something he had never looked like before.  
Dumbledore had stood before them, with his head bent. Remus felt his heart fall as he had relayed the story to them.  
"He knows all of us," the old Headmaster had said, "He knows our families. He knows our weak spots. And he proved that to us this past weekend."  
There was a pause before he continued.  
"Edgar Bones . . . no, all of the Bones's family . . . is deceased."  
The entire room froze. Nothing like this had happened since the Potters and the McKinnons. And those two attacks were so long ago. How could Voldemort had killed Edgar's entire family?  
"I was to visit two people on Christmas night," Dumbledore said, "One was the Potter's residence, and the second was the Bones's party. Edgar had invited me, and I told him that I would be very honored to step in for a pint of egg nogg. They were expecting me at seven o' clock. I arrived at seven thirty, trying to be fashionably late, and it was too late."  
Peter's face was not one of fear. It was the one that he used to wear when they had been caught by Professor McGonagall or Professor Snorks for some prank they had pulled days earlier. It was the face of surprised defeat. Lily stared at him for a moment before turning back to her husband, and resting her head on his shoulder.  
"The entire front half of the house had been blown away, and inside were all of the family, dead. Seven Dark Marks were above the house. They were all buried this morning."  
"We've had attacks like this before, Albus," Elphias interrupted.  
"No, we have not," Dumbledore retorted, a flame flaring up in his eyes, "For in this instance, a message was left on the body of Edgar."  
"A list of the members of the Order, and a list of new recruits for this year," Moody stood from his seat for the first time, "Edgar's name was crossed off, as if it were some sort of checklist for the owner. They know every single one of us. And they know our families."  
"It has occurred to me in this incident, that it is not only the welfare of yourselves that you are risking, but of your loved ones as well," Dumbledore continued, "And that is why I am giving leave of any person or persons who have a family. You may retire your duties. You will be placed into hiding, and no one will speak ill of you. Every single soul in this room has done their part in this war, and I will understand and respect and honor your choice to leave."  
"There has to be some sort of hope," Peter said, somewhat histerically, "There has to be some end to it all! The war has to be over someday!"  
"Oh, everything must end one way or another," Dumbledore said, "Yet sometimes it ends in the ways we wish it not to.  
"I will tell you the odds, my friends, because you all deserve to know the truth," he continued, addressing the room in an honesty he had never held. He was beaten. They could all see it. They have been trying for ten years, and the war would not end. He had tried everything, and now he stood before them defeated, asking them to understand why, "Caradoc Dearborn is also taken as dead. As most of you know, he disappeared a good six months ago during the raid on the Ministry of Magic. Edgar Bones is dead. Marlene is dead. Fenwick is dead. All recruits from the past two years, who were all sent into the spying field, have been accounted as missing or dead. The enemy's number has grown well into the six hundreds for leadership roles. There are many more that we do not know of, or are unproclaimed spies and supporters. Giants from the entire continent of Europe have begun to migrate to our country. No dementor is under our government's control. Azkaban lays unguarded. It is only a matter of a few weeks before the prisoners regain their sanity and realize this. In other words, we have no hope, Mr. Pettigrew.  
"There are times when a man must make a decision which may not be proud," Dumbledore said, "Humble choices are sometimes what we must follow. This war has gone on for far too long, my friends. Far too long. Those who wish to leave, leave now. Stand and exit out of this room forever. I will never degrade you for doing so. And neither will anyone else. Only those who wish to die, remain seated."  
There was a quietness between the members, as they all shifted in their chairs. No one moved. Remus, who couldn't budge an inch out of his chair himself, stared in fear at his fellow members. Not a one of them would stand and leave. They were all too proud. They would die in honor rather than live in cowardness.  
Slowly, he stared at James. Lily was trying to catch her husband's eye, but he wouldn't look at her. He had his jaw set, and he stared at Dumbledore, as if somehow challenging him to make him get up. Dumbledore didn't look at him, but Remus did.  
Lily closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to cry. They had to remain seated. They could not leave. Or was it that she couldn't leave? She knew that James would never go into hiding, and she couldn't bear to go without him. The images of her sitting at home . . . if you could call it a home . . . with Harry, and wondering if her beloved James was still alive. They wouldn't see each other again until the end of the war, and that could be weeks to years. That could be never.  
No. If James could not stand, neither could she.  
Sirius knew there was no question if he would stand. He gripped the sides of his chair, glaring at the back of Elphias's head. He would not stand. He knew he would die. One way or another, he would die. And he was ready to.  
Dumbledore looked saddened at these faces who would not break. They were warriors in their hearts, and he could not tame a growing storm. They would fight until there was nothing left to fight for, and even then they would continue. He had compiled the greatest of Aurors, and now he truly saw their courage.  
Or their stupidity. Whichever one.  
"Very well," he sighed, and then stopped as a chair scooted back. Frank and Alice were now standing.  
"Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore said, somewhat surprised. Frank did not address him, but turned to the group of seated members.  
"Alice and I have decided to leave," he said, "We have a son. And we have to think about him. As much as we'll regret this decision, we know it's our duty as parents. I want my son to have a father. I want my son to grow and see his first birthday. And I know that that will not happen if we stay here. We've already made arrangements with a Secret Keeper, and we'll be leaving in three days."  
Frank looked to James and Lily, and seemed to stare them down. Both of them looked to the floor, "My son deserves a peaceful life. He deserves parents. He deserves to live in a house that's safe. And that's why I make my choice."  
And then, the proud soldier and his wife grabbed their coats. Frank Longbottom, the best of them all, the strongest, the smartest, the swiftest Auror any of them had ever seen . . . he walked to the back door of the parlor. And with their heads held high and faces chisled out of stone, they left without another word.  
The door slammed behind them, and Dumbledore's expression could be seen as a small trace of a smile. He nodded, his old eyes saddened, and then looked to Moody.  
"We will have our next meeting in a week's time," is all he said, before walking out of the room and into the kitchen. He was going back to Hogwarts through the fireplace.  
The members remained seated.  
  
"I'll see you tonight," Sirius said, patting Lily on the back before heading out of the room. Most of the members had left after the end of the meeting, and now only a few remained, trying to get their things together or figuring out how they were going to get where they needed to go.  
"We'll be there," Lily said quietly, still somewhat occupied with the meeting's order of business, "Have a safe trip."  
Sirius nodded, and stepped out of the room. Lily sighed, and grabbed her cloak. She had made the right decision. She had to stay with James. He needed her.  
Now that that was out of her conscience, she began to think of picking Harry up from her mum's house. Mrs. Evans would be worried if she didn't return soon.  
She found herself walking out of the parlor, and into the front hall. She had to find James . . .  
"Tell me," a rigid voice came from the kitchen, "Just tell me, Remus! What did I do wrong now? What could I have done to be perfect for you? Huh? Just come out and say it!"  
"No, James . . ."  
Lily stopped, and edged back to the kitchen door. She opened it a bit, and looked inside. Her eyes widened at the sight she saw. Remus backed up against the counter, and James defiantly leaning over him, threateningly grinding his hands into fists.  
"Come on, Remus! What did I do now?!" he asked.  
Remus swallowed, and then looked James in the eye, "You know what you did. Your pride has always been top priority for you."  
"That's all I got left!"  
"You have a son, James!"  
There was a pause, and Lily shut the door. She leaned up against the wall, her head flat against the white paint. She couldn't breathe.  
"You have a son! And a wife! You're not a kid anymore! You have a responsibility . . ."  
"I stay for my son."  
"You stay for yourself! You have a family!"  
"THAT'S RIGHT, LUPIN!" James shouted, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen, "I HAVE A FAMILY. NOT YOU! I AM A FATHER! IT'S MY SON! IT'S MY WIFE! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS! HOW COULD YOU? HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TELL ME WHAT I'M DOING WRONG WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE? YOU DON'T HAVE A FAMILY, REMUS!"  
There was another pause, this one deadly. Lily heard the silence cut through the air as she waited for Remus to respond. But no response came. Just more silence.  
Finally, a slow and careful voice sounded, "Well, I thought I did."  
Footsteps, and the kitchen door banged open. Remus charged out, making a straight cut for the front door.  
"Remus . . ." Lily started, but Remus didn't stop. He slammed the door behind him, and was gone.  
Remus was gone. 


	104. Chapter 103: Henry Evans and His Wife

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)  
  
It was dark by the time that Lily returned home with Harry. She hadn't felt much like going out to dinner with Sirius and her husband, so she had decided to just pick up Harry from his grandmother's and go on home. They had played a few elementary games upon returning, and Harry seemed to be perfectly happy. Lily, on the other hand, couldn't smile all night.  
She was ashamed. Ashamed of her decisions in life. Not only not to stand and walk out of the room for her son's sake, but for other choices that she had made in the past twenty years. To go to Hogwarts, instead of just denying herself of her magic and staying a Muggle. That way, Petunia would have loved her. She would have been normal. She would have been . . . happy.  
And then ever going on that one first date with James Potter. Trying to see something in him . . . something other than an arrogant jerk. She thought that for a minute, or possibly even a year . . . she had seen a glimpse of it. That's when she had fallen in love. That's when she had been so utterly in love with him that she had told Crouch they were engaged. That one night at the field came back so vividly.  
James had been hurt, and needed cared for. Her mouth had opened, and the words had slipped out.  
That's why he had proposed to her. She had shown him that she loved him. And he had taken advantage of it. He had taken her into that perfect room, and had gotten on bended knee, and asked for her hand in marriage.  
That was her next regret. Saying yes. She had been young. Seventeen. Too young to be married.  
And then finally . . .  
She looked at her baby boy, laughing and gaaing on the floor. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears back. She didn't want Harry to see her crying.  
"You must never think that, Lily," she thought aloud to herself, "You can't ever think that again."  
She had seen James today, leaning over Remus and his hands balled into fists. She had seen him when Frank had talked about his father. She had seen him with Snape that day all those years ago, holding him upside down and threatening to take off his underwear. There was a streak in James that was selfish, arrogant, and never going to change. She thought he had grown up. She thought he had become a man.  
She had been wrong.  
The door opened, and the rain poured into the front hall as someone entered.  
"Lily!" the door slammed behind James as he appeared in the doorway of the parlour.  
"What, James," Lily sighed, grabbing Harry and standing to face him.  
James was soaked, his cloak drooping off of him like saggy skin. His bangs were pasted to his forehead as he glared at her.  
"Did you talk to Sirius about me?" he said, "After the meeting, did you talk to Sirius about me?"  
"I don't . . ."  
"Did you?" he demanded, and Harry stopped gooing. Lily had never seen her husband like this before, and she nodded.  
"I did," she said, "I'm allowed to talk to him. He's my friend, too."  
"Not about me, you're not," James said, "He said you were worried about me. He said you wanted to go into hiding. Is that true, Lily? You think we should go into hiding?"  
  
"I . . ."  
"Lily, answer my question," James said tersley, and Harry gave out a whine.  
"No, James," Lily said, stroking Harry's head, "No, I think we should stay as a family."  
"You can't stand by yourself, Lily, that's it," James said, "You wouldn't join the Order without me. You won't go and leave without me."  
"I can stand by myself," Lily said, setting Harry down on the floor as he began to laugh again, "But I know you can't."  
James glared at her, and moved closer, his shoes squishing on the carpet, "I can stand by myself. I've been doing it for almost three years, Lily."  
Lily glared at him, "Oh, you have, have you?"  
"Why don't you just leave."  
"Because I won't go without you," Lily said, "We're a family, and I won't get up and go without knowing you're all right."  
"I'M FINE!" James shouted.  
"Obviously, you're not," Lily retorted, "Otherwise you wouldn't be YELLING AT EVERYONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU!"  
"Why can't you just leave?" James said, "Take Harry with you, and just leave me alone? Just . . . go into hiding and . . ."  
And that's when it happened. James's glare broke, and he sunk into a chair, his head in his hands. Lily softened, seeing this reaction in her husband, and sighed a tired sigh. She sat next to him, setting herself on the arm of his chair, and taking him in her arms. He didn't cry. He didn't react to her in any way. He was dying inside, and Lily could see that.  
All of the regret that she had felt minutes before melted away within a matter of seconds. They were both tired. They both just wanted to wake up and be back at Hogwarts. That's all they wanted.  
But neither of them would ever get their wish.  
"Why won't you just go?" James muttered, sounding beaten.  
Lily looked at Harry, staring at his father, and shook her head, "Because. We made a vow, James. That night that Remus almost died. We all made a vow. We look out for each other. We don't leave unless we're all together. Forever alive, remember?"  
James nodded, and set his head in her lap. Harry watched his parents with fascination as they sat there in silence. None of the Potters said a word as the rain continued to pound onto their roof and into the gutters. There was nothing to say.  
A knock at the door broke the silence, and Lily stood up cautiously to answer the caller.  
"Who is it?" she asked, halfway out of the parlor.  
"It's the Ministry, ma'am," a familiar voice sounded through the door.  
Lily reached for the knob, and opened the door to face, to her surprise . . .  
"Remus!" she said, and opened the door for him to come in, "Come on, you're going to get sick out there. I'll get you something to . . . drink . . ."  
But Remus didn't move. He just stared at Lily, as if he had never seen her before. Yet his eyes gave him away. They always did. He looked torn.  
"Remus?" Lily asked quietly, and then she saw what he was wearing.  
A Bowler hat.  
"Mrs. Potter, I presume," he said in a mechanical and somewhat artificial voice. He was at work. He was on business. He couldn't make this personal, Lily knew that. Or perhaps . . . maybe he didn't want to.  
"Yes, Remus, I . . ."  
And that's when the man had broken. His hand began to shake, and he swallowed hard. His face melted, and then somehow became even more far away.  
"I . . . I'm sorry, Lily . . ." he started.  
"What . . ."  
And then she saw them. Two flags. Two flags of memorium. They had been shoved into his balled fist, and now were very crinkled and wet. But they were still recognizable.  
"Your mother and father . . ." he said, and Lily screamed. She grabbed him, and he let her cry into his already sopping wet coat, and pound on his back as she howled.  
James came to the front hall, and peered out into the rain where Remus and Lily stood. Remus, not seeing James, slowly returned the embrace, and whispered, "It's all right. It's going to be all right."  
James stared at Lily, and then at the two flags. The Bowler had finally come. They were dead.  
Mr. and Mrs. Evans were dead.  
  
The cemetary was quiet that Sunday afternoon. No one had ever seen a more beautiful funeral than the one given to Henry Evans and his beloved wife. They were buried in the midst of a tree grove, next to their brothers, sisters, and parents. The Evans's lot had grown.  
James and Lily stood in front, staring at the caskets as they were lowered farther and farther into the ground. The wind blew in Lily's hair, and her red locks danced across her black dress. James couldn't see this, though. He couldn't take his eyes off of the caskets.  
This scene was all too familiar to him.  
He knew no one at this funeral, but they all looked like the guests of Wendy's. And then Mum and Dad's. They all looked the same.  
The service was given, and the caskets were lowered and buried. Lily was in a trance as James and her walked back to the road. It had been quick for Lily. She had tried to become numb through the entire service, not wanting to start crying in front of her parents's friends.  
"It's all right," James said, hushing her as she gave out a sob, "We'll just get home and . . . and we'll talk."  
Lily nodded. Her mother . . . her darling mother who had only wanted happiness for her. And her father who had only wanted the world for her . . . it was completely unfair. Everything about their deaths was unfair!  
"Shh," James whispered again, and tugged her closer to his side, "Don't cry. Please don't cry."  
"LILY!"  
Lily snapped to attention, and turned around. There, marching up the hill, was her sister. Petunia was dressed in all purple, and her face was streaked with makeup. She had been bawling during the ceremony, and now she looked ready to kill. A few paces behind her stood a fat, pinkish man, all dressed in pinstripes and white. James and Lily stared at them as they drew nearer, the man behind Petunia running out of breath as he tried to catch up with her.  
Petunia marched straight up, to Lily, and raised her hand.  
SMACK!  
Lily held her face as Petunia wagged her finger at her, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU LITTLE FREAK! YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED MUM AND DAD!"  
"Petunia, I . . ."  
"HE DID THIS! HE CAME AFTER THEM! I KNOW IT! THAT DEVIL MAN! HE WAS LOOKING FOR YOU! AND . . . AND HIM!"  
She waved a hand at James, and James blinked. Lily looked severely frightened.  
"Now, Petunia, dear, I . . ." the fatter man said as he came from behind her, catching his breath. Petunia continued, without acknowledging who James had taken to be her newly found husband.  
"IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, THEY'D STILL BE ALIVE! THEY'D STILL BE HERE!"  
"Petunia, it's no use," Lily said, "They're dead, there's nothing we can do . . ."  
"YOU SHOULD BE DEAD INSTEAD OF THEM!!!" Petunia screamed, driven to insanity by her own grief, "YOU AND YOUR FREAK FAMILY! ALL OF YOU! THEY WERE GOOD PEOPLE! THEY DESERVED TO LIVE! THEY . . . they . . ."  
Petunia broke out into another round of tears, and Vernon . . . that's who James thought it to be . . . went to comfort her. But she just pushed him away, and jabbed another finger at her sister.  
"You are DEAD to me!" she cried, "YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! NEVER BRING YOUR FREAK FAMILY AROUND ME! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"  
"Petunia . . ." Lily started, and Petunia pushed her out of the way as she started towards her car, parked in the small road that wound down the hill of the graveyard. Vernon, not saying a word to the Potters, tipped his hat to them and followed his wife out of sight. Lily stared after her sister, knowing it would be the last time that she saw her. She had lost her a long time ago, she knew that. But now it was final. Now it was real.  
James looked at his wife, inquisitively. She hadn't yelled back. She hadn't fought her sister. They both stood there for a good long time before James coughed, and continued up the hill.  
"She's right, you know."  
James turned around and saw Lily standing there, tears streaking down her face.  
"What?" he said, and she lowered her head.  
"Harry was there, earlier that day," Lily said, "I know that it had to do with him. I know it."  
"What are you saying, Lily?" James asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.  
Lily, her eyes bloodshot, looked to James, and said very seriously, "They weren't looking for me, James. But they were looking for someone else."  
In one moment, James realized what she was saying. His eyes grew wide, and he almost felt his own tears well up, "No, Lily, that's not true."  
"It's the only reasonable explanation," Lily said, "They thought he was there."  
"Lily . . ."  
"They came to get rid of their problem."  
"Lily!"  
"They came to kill Harry, James!" she cried, the tears spilling down her face, "They came to kill my child!"  
With that thought, Lily ran down the hill, and back into the shade of the trees. She left James by himself, and didn't think anything more of him. Harry was in danger. Harry was in danger. Harry was in danger.  
Harry would die.  
"No!" she screamed, and fell onto the ground. All of the patrons had left, and no one was left at the newly dug graves of her mother and father. She layed there in the snow-ridden ground, her hands digging into the dirt underneath the frozen mounds, nails clawing at the earth. It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! She never asked for this!  
She could see the sun setting as she realized that she was feet away from her parents' tombstones. The orange and purple light danced off of the cement that stood, their names engraved side by side for all of eternity. In a hundred years, some people would walk past this spot, and think to themselves, "I wonder who these Evans folks were."  
Lily felt herself get to her knees, and her dirt caked hands touch her face. The tears mixed with the melting snow, and all she could do was cry.  
"Mum! What am I supposed to do?" she screamed, even if she knew that her mother couldn't hear her, "You can't leave me now! You can't! I don't want to be special, Daddy! I don't want this! I want to be me! I want to be me again!"  
There was no answer. Just the epitaph and their names staring back at her, as if long lost eyes of the dead could see no longer and only stared to mock her. Lily fell to the ground again, and hugged the snow.  
"Mum!" she whimpered, "It was supposed to be him. I don't want to die, Mum! I don't want Harry to die! Or James . . . or Remus . . . or Sirius . . . or Peter . . . Or Emmeline . . . or Alice . . . or . . . Petunia . . ."  
Still no answer came from the silent graves.  
"I don't want to die," she cried out again, and then closed her eyes, "What am I supposed to do? What am . . . I . . . supposed to . . . do . . ."  
And then no more tears came. No more tears could be given for her lost family. So she lay there, an empty shell . . . filled with guilt, with regret, and with hate. Hate for everything she had ever known. Hate for the letter from Dumbledore that had invited her into this world. Hate for James. Hate for Petunia. Hate for Voldemort.  
When she opened her eyes again, she was on her back, staring up at the sky. It had darkened, and now the stars were beginning to peer out from the white clouds. A little closer to home, a saddened face towered over her, looking at her in sympathy.  
James lent a hand to help her up, and she took it. He hoisted her up, and helped her clean off her dress.  
"You're wet," he said, "Come on, let's get going."  
Lily was as numb as she had been through the funeral service. She barely felt James put his arms around her as they started back up the long hill.  
"I hate him," Lily muttered.  
"Hate who?" James asked, almost in a dull tone.  
"Voldemort," Lily said, "I hate him. I . . ."  
"Lily, don't do that," James said, recognizing an anger that had boiled inside of him the night of his parents' death, "Don't say that. Revenge doesn't help. It never will."  
"It'll help me."  
"No," James said, "Revenge just causes more death. One thing leads to another. You have to understand that. You can fight him, but don't let it consume you."  
"If Voldemort had his way, we would all be dead right now," Lily said blatantly, her eyes narrowing, "He would have me killed, and Harry too. I hate him just for that."  
"But we're not dead."  
And with that comforting thought, the two of them reached the top of the hill. James headed for a tree to ready a Portkey that he had registered for. Lily stood there, emptied of energy, looking at her feet.  
"Does the pain ever go away?" she asked as James tapped the trunk with his wand.  
James stopped, and looked at his wife hesitantly. Then, he said, "No. It doesn't."  
Lily nodded, "I thought so."  
James gave the tree one more tap, and then motioned for Lily to touch it. Together, they were transported far away from the cemetary, and those onlookers who may have been watching these two broken mourners lost sight of them as the last ray of the sunset disappeared from the tree grove, and into a memory of the past day. 


	105. Chapter 104: Of Men and Monsters

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)  
  
"Hey! Wormtail! Down here!" Sirius shouted from the bottom of the steps. There was a groan, and then a very sick looking Peter appeared at the top of the staircase.  
He hadn't looked good all evening, and Sirius had told him he could go home if he wanted to. But he hadn't. He had insisted on staying.  
The screaming of the infant came back loud and clear.Well, he really wasn't an infant anymore. Harry had grown amazingly in the past eight months. He had celebrated his first birthday, and now he was walking, saying a few choice words, and recognizing the boys when they came over.  
Yet he wasn't grown up yet. Sirius and Peter still had baby duty this evening while Harry's parents were out. Sirius couldn't wait until the boy had been introduced to indoor plumbing. But for right now, he was subject to hold baby powder in one hand, and a diaper in the other.  
They hadn't had to always do this, resort to Sirius Black as a baby- sitter. Before, James had had his in-laws, and of course occasionally Alice Longbottom or Emmeline Vance.  
Alice had been gone for over half a year now, and Emmeline was away on some duty with Mad-Eye. That left the good ol' Marauders to take over the household for the evening.  
"Doggy!" Harry laughed, pointing at Sirius as he came waddling into the living room, holding his stuffed dog that he had gotten for Christmas, "Doggy!"  
"Maybe you should stop transforming in front of him now," Peter said, weakly coming down the stairs, "He's starting to talk. What if he points to you and goes Doggy one day in front of people?"  
"Yeah, I bet you're right," Sirius said, looking at his godson, before setting his supplies on the fireplace, and closing his eyes. In a few moments, Padfoot stood where Sirius had.  
"Sirius!" Peter scowled. Padfoot smirked as only a dog can smirk, and nuzzled against the side of Harry. Harry laughed, and petted Padfoot on the back. Both of them looked content, and Peter groaned. He knew he couldn't surpass that with a rat. Harry would just scream and squish him with his stuffed puppy.  
"Doggy!" Harry squealed again, and in an instant, Padfoot had turned back into Sirius, and was reaching for his godson.  
"Calm down, Wormtail," Sirius said, picking Harry up in his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? And more importantly, who'd believe him?"  
Peter shrugged, and followed the two of them into the new kitchen. It was the fifth kitchen that the boys had seen. The fifth kitchen in which Harry had eaten. The fifth kitchen in which Harry's mother had prepared dinner. The fifth kitchen his father had bought.  
It was a dark time, these days that they had found themselves in. The house that they now found themselves living in was grungy and filled with dirt from the sooty streets and air outdoors. It someone penetrated their house's walls, and inflitrated their living quarters. Sirius thought of all the different kitchens he had looked at during his nights with Harry, and dinners with Harry's parents.  
First they had moved out of their first house. That had been the hardest to say goodbye to. They had lived there since the beginning of their marriage, and they hadn't wanted to say goodbye. As Lily said, they had been given Harry while living in that house. But they had packed their things, and shipped off to a different town and a different address.  
The second house had been shingled black on the rooftop, and it had needed some sprucing up. They had all pitched in one weekend, with their spells that they had learned about house cleaning from assorted books, and had managed to make it presentable for Lily when she saw it for the first time. The three boys (James, Sirius, and Peter), had worked night and day for two days on the exterior, and it had meant the world to her. Sadly, that house no longer stood. It had been burnt to the ground by an unknown person two weeks later.  
The third house had been an urban house, stuck between two other two stories, and sporting red brick. It had had one bedroom, and James told his family they'd have to deal with their situation, due to the fact that he was quickly running out of his father's legacy money, and he wished to save some for after the war and for Harry's education. James was what Sirius liked to refer to as "rich," but he still was dwindling now. It had been in that house that a cryptic message had been painted on the door by wand in an invisible force. It had only been Lily's keen eye for charms that she realized it was there. When she revealed the force, it only showed an "X" on their front door. It was written in green, and they reported it to Dumbledore.  
Dumbledore made them evacuate the house as soon as he received this news.  
Two hours after their evacuation, spys reported a dark figure approaching the house, almost floating inside, and a blood curtling howl come from inside. The house then fell to the ground, and the dark figure disappeared. No Dark Mark was left, and the remnants of the "X" charm vanished.  
They had spent a night at Headquarters, and Dumbledore had tried to pursuade James to go into hiding once more. Sirius could still recall the look on his friend's face as the Headmaster leaned over him, almost pleading for him to retire.  
"I can't do that," were the only words that James had given the old man.  
The last house that they had moved into before this one had been more of a permanent stay. It was almost like their first home; furnished with the nicest of things and filled with the warmth of a family's love. Yet it had lasted the least amount of time. Their second night in their newly found bedroom, the front door downstairs had been kicked in, and a few black shadows flew in through the door. They were Death Eaters, and if it hadn't been for Harry's crying, Lily and James would have been killed in their own bed. James had fought them off before they could get up the stairs, while Lily grabbed Harry and headed for the fireplace in their room. James had then stunned them all, dove into the fireplace after his family, and had arrived in Sirius's new home. The next morning, when the three Potters returned with Sirius to their address . . . the house was demolished.  
And yet, James would not hide.  
This fifth house had been occupied by the little family for a little over a month. Nothing had happened to it yet, and they had decided, almost out of desperation for any happy thought, that nothing would ever happen to it. This is the only thought that had kept Sirius comfortable in the walls of his friend's home.  
The fifth kitchen. The fifth house. The fifth chance for a better life.  
A fifth reason for James to run.  
Now Sirius realized why his friends asked him to watch their son. It wasn't because no one else was available. It was because they trusted him to save their son if the time came to run.  
Harry babbled in his godfather's arms as Peter went to the cupboards for food. Sirius held the one-year-old tighter in his arms as he looked out the window, and to the moon.  
It was full tonight.  
  
The night covered the street like a cloak of foreshadowing. With the night came fear, and with fear came death. The dementors began to file out from between the houses. Sirius could sense them in the shadows of darkness. Yet, they were safe inside the house. Every light in the little home was turned on, and he sat in the bedroom, rocking Harry to sleep in the chair. Now the house was quiet. Peter had left, complaining of bad stomach aches, and now there were no noises to be heard but the distant breathing of the boy. Sirius closed his eyes, and rested his head against the back of the chair.  
Back and forth he went. Back, forward, back, forward. Rocking like the wind, Harry safely in his strong arms. His Harry. Nothing would hurt either of them tonight.  
He don't know when exactly he fell asleep, but it was not long after he thought to himself, "If only life were really this perfect." It was the sort of sleep where reality mixes with fantasy, and one does not realize that they are truly dreaming.  
It was in this dream that he was rocking Harry, and the full moon from outside the nursery's window began to grow. It became closer and closer to the branches of the tree outside, and not before long could Sirius make out the craters in its surface. The light of the moon was cast onto the wood of the floor, and shone perfectly on the door that led to the hallway. It was here that he could see a figure of someone, holding their wand to the door, and chanting something.  
"Who are you?" he asked, Harry still in his arms.  
The figure laughed, and Sirius swore he knew that laugh. It was one that he had heard before, somewhere . . .  
"It draws nearer," the figure sneered, "It draws nearer."  
  
"What? What draws nearer? What are you talking about?" Sirius demanded.  
The figure only laughed again, and then disappeared. On the doorway, Sirius could see what it had been drawing.  
A green X.  
A large, bold, green X.  
He opened his eyes, and he could feel his voice screaming. It had been a while since he had woken up screaming. Harry was jolted awake, and he started to cry.  
Sirius stood up, and stared at the door. It was a normal door. He snapped his head to look at the window. The moon was its normal size, millions of miles away.  
Just a dream.  
A dream.  
A . . .  
A door slammed from downstairs. Sirius froze. A door. Someone had entered.  
Footsteps. In the main parlor. On the first floor.  
His heart pounded, and he clasped Harry tighter. Harry grew quiet, and he gave a little whimper.  
"Doggy?" he asked, unsure of the present situation.  
"Shhh," Sirius said, stepping silently towards the hallway, "Quiet, Harry. Quiet."  
Two sets of footsteps. One loud, and the other a little more graceful. A young boy and a middle aged man, Sirius concluded. They were walking together. He held his breath, and then listened for their voices.  
He heard them, whispering, their words being carried up the stairs and into the second floor corridor.  
"Find the Potter child," the man said to his younger apprentice.  
Sirius's eyes grew wide, and he ducked back into the room. What was he going to do? There was no way to get to the fireplace, no way out of the house without jumping through the window and killing himself. What was he supposed to do? What was . . .  
"It's just like school," he whispered to himself, "Just like Hogwarts. It's just Filch and Mrs. Norris. That's it."  
How would James get out? How would he . . .  
  
Something silver from Harry's closet caught his eye, and he flew across the room to snatch it. The Invisibility Cloak. James had put it in his son's room. Sirius flung it over himself and Harry, and then quietly stepped out into the hallway. They had to make it to the parlor, where the fireplace was. They had to make it there. They had to.  
The nightmare was still haunting him.  
"Are his parents away?" the boy could be heard from the top of the staircase. Sirius spotted the two of them, milling around between the two rooms of the first floor: the kitchen and the parlor. They were both donned in black cloaks and white masks, their wands out and ready to use.  
"Yes," the man informed him, "According to our source, yes. Remember, do not hurt the child. We must give him to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord must be the one to dispose of him."  
"I am aware of that," the boy hissed, and they entered the parlor.  
Damn, Sirius thought. They stood between him and the fireplace. He had to get through them somehow.  
Harry felt the fear coming from Sirius, and he grew still in his godfather's arms. The little boy was counting on him. He had to try.  
He had to.  
Sirius skipped the first step as he started down the staircase, knowing that it would creak. For an instant, his left shoe became uncovered, and he watched with anticipation as the older Death Eater almost caught a glimpse of it protruding from thin air. But he didn't, and the two continued searching the parlor.  
"Mr. Black," the man said, "We know that you are here. Hand over the boy, and you will go unscathed."  
Fifth step. One by one, he made it to the eighth step. The last step. And then to the first floor carpet.  
He could see the fireplace now, illuminated by the lights of the living room. He could see the Floo Powder setting next to it. He had to make it. He had to.  
"Mr. Black, we know that you are alone," the man continued, "You will not be hurt if you give us the child."  
The boy was inches from Harry's right hand. Sirius held him closer to his chest, and held his breath. He froze as the boy passed them by a hair, and went to the staircase to take a look at the second floor.  
Three more steps to the fireplace. Three more steps.  
"Do you hear that?" the man said to the boy.  
"Hear what?"  
Two more steps.  
"That sound. It's footsteps . . ."  
"I don't hear anything."  
One more step.  
"It's like . . ."  
"Doggy!" Harry squealed as Sirius squeezed him too tight. Sirius froze, and the two Death Eaters froze.  
"I heard that," the boy said.  
"Shut up," the man said, and turned in Sirius's direction, "They're over there somewhere."  
"Maybe the house is haunted . . ."  
"The house isn't haunted," the man muttered to himself, his voice muffled by his mask. He moved closer to the two of them, standing one step away from the hearth. Sirius could feel Harry's heart pounding in time with his.  
They had to run.  
They had no other choice.  
"Mr. Black?" the man said once more.  
Sirius didn't answer.  
"Mr. Black, we will kill you if you do not give us the boy," the man said.  
Sirius didn't answer.  
He could see the Floo Powder next to his left hand. He had to try for it. He had to run.  
In a flash he threw off the cloak, and thrust his hand into the pot of ash, Harry screaming. The man gasped, and lunged for him.  
"DOGGY!" Harry screamed, and Sirius leaped into the fireplace.  
He said the first name that came to his mind ("REMUS LUPIN!"), and then felt himself falling forward, being yanked far away from the house that he knew they would never return to. Being pulled in and out of fireplaces and swirling around with the ash and soot. Harry was crying, and Sirius held him even closer. The two of them fell through blackness, until finally reaching a hard ending.  
They tumbled onto the floor of Lupin's cabin, and Harry screamed. Sirius stood, shaken by nerves and the adrenaline pumping through his entire body. The house was dark. No candles were lit, and the fireplace hadn't been burning.  
He scooped up Harry from the floor, and he started whimpering again. What were they doing here? Why had he said Lupin's name? Why had that been the first name that he had thought of?  
"The dream," he whispered to himself, "It was the dream."  
Lupin must have been out that night. Either that or he had condemned the place to a wild animal. Everything was boarded up with nails and wood. All the cupboards were nailed shut, and all of the doorframes clawed to splinters. Stains were on the floor and carpet, and the furniture was torn, letting the stuffing spill onto the ground. It looked like a disaster had swept through the house.  
The first thought that came to Sirius's mind was that Lupin had been attacked as well as James. They had come after all four of them. They knew all four of their names. They were trying to clean them all off.  
But then, he remembered his dream.  
The moon.  
The moon had been full . . .  
Slowly, he stepped to the closest window, and cautiously looked to the sky. Clouds and trees hid the stars from him, and Harry pointed between two branches.  
"Moo! Moo!" he laughed, looking up to the . . .  
Moon.  
"No," Sirius whispered, "No . . . no, no, no, no . . ."  
A growl came from behind them, and Sirius turned away from the window to stare into the darkness again.  
There he was.  
"Moony . . ." Sirius murmured, staring at the wolf in front of them.  
The wolf was out of control, Sirius could tell. Lupin was gone for the night, and there was no trace of humanity left within this monster. It had overpowered him completely. And he could tell that, just from looking at the eyes of the beast.  
"Doggy!" Harry cooed, now directing his word towards this newly found thing. But Sirius held him closer, and glared at the wolf.  
"Don't you look at him," he growled, and the wolf growled back.  
And with that, Sirius ran again. This time, he ran up the stairs, and the wolf followed them in pursuit. Harry was getting heavy in his arms as he mounted the case and into the attic. He slammed the door shut, and heard the body of the monster thump up against it. He fell back onto the wooden floor, and buried his face into Harry's black hair. The wolf snarled, and then howled from the staircase. He wanted in. He wanted blood.  
"GO AWAY!" Sirius roared, and the wolf thrust its body into the door again.  
"GO AWAY, YOU DAMN . . ."  
Harry screamed.  
The wolf tried again, once more, to get through the door. To reach the blood. To reach the child . . .  
  
Sirius set Harry down, and let his eyes adjust to the attic's light. He frantically looked around for something . . . anything . . . to set in front of the door.  
In the far corner there was a trunk. The old Hogwarts trunk reading Remus J. Lupin.  
He ran for it, and shoved it back to the door. He reached the door just in time as the wolf broke the lock, and caught a glimpse of the attic through the open entrance. Sirius slammed the door shut again, heaving the trunk in front of it. The wolf yelped, and fell down the stairs with a thud.  
And then all was silent.  
  
"IT WAS IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU, JAMES!"  
James glared at the floor of Remus's cabin, as he and Lily sat on the torn couch. Lupin was sitting weakly in his bed on the other side of the room, looking forlorn and yet staying silent. Sirius sat in the chair between the couple and Remus, holding the saved Invisibility Cloak. Harry cooed away, half asleep, in his mother's arms.  
And Mad-Eye Moody paced the center of the floor, staring James down. Daring him to look back at him.  
"YOUR SON ALMOST DIED TONIGHT! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAS HAPPENED!"  
  
"But nothing did happen," James argued.  
"DRAGON DUNG!" Moody shouted, and Remus looked quietly to Lily who was holding Harry. He couldn't remember what had happened. He never could anymore. He could just remember the look that Sirius had given him once he had been shaken awake by the Order members that morning. It was a look of fear.  
Fear.  
"YOUR FAMILY IS GOING INTO HIDING, POTTER!"  
"Never!" James said, now looking up at the old Auror. Moody's eye twisted around through his skull to face forward once more. It had been watching Remus cautiously, but now it focused on this stupid boy in front of him.  
"You will do as I say, Potter," Moody snarled, "Your life belongs to me. And if I say that you will go into hiding, then by Merlin, you will go into hiding."  
"It's not Voldemort's doing that Sirius brought him to a werewolf's house," James spat, and Remus stared at his forgottten friend. He looked increduously at him, and his face became hidden behind the mask.  
"I told you," the wolf whispered next to him, "I told you, didn't I? But did you believe me?"  
"It was the only place I could think of that was safe," Sirius explained, and Remus's hopes rose.  
"This place?!" James cried, standing up, "You took my SON to the worst spot imaginable! Do you know what could have happened?"  
"I . . ." Remus started.  
"Harry could be just like HIM!" James said, jutting a finger at Remus, and Remus closed his mouth and his eyes glazed over, "He could have to put up with THAT for his entire life! I'm sorry, but I don't want my son to become a . . ."  
"James!" Lily cut her husband off, and Remus sunk lower into his mattress.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to . . . I didn't know . . ."  
  
"You are all four coming back to Headquarters with me," Moody ordered, "Now. James, you will be moved from your house into a more permanent residence. One that we will choose for you, and place under a charm. Your Secret Keeper . . ."  
"No!" James said, drawing closer to Moody, "I've already told you . . ."  
"JAMES POTTER! YOU WILL FOLLOW ME TO HEADQUARTERS!" Moody said dangerously, putting his charred face inches from James's, Then he turned to the rest of the group, and added, "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR A WORD FROM ANY OF YOU! NONE! THE NEXT ONE THAT SPEAKS WILL BE CURSED!"  
The Potters stood, and drearily followed him to the fireplace. Moody took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it down, saying, "Alastor Moody."  
He disappeared, and the Potters followed after him, leaving Sirius and Remus behind. 


	106. Chapter 105: The Last Stand

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)  
  
(Note from the author: This is a long one. But I have been waiting to write this chapter for some time now, and we all know where it goes from here. From here, we know the story, and I will try my best to write it. Also, let's hear it for the readers! We reached the 900th reply mark! Thank you so much for everyone that has read, reviewed, and fallen in love with these characters as much as I have. Without the readers, this story would just be a few words printed, and they would have no life. Thank you everyone so much.)  
  
"You will meet with the Headmaster tomorrow morning," Moody said, showing James and Lily to their room. It was the same one in which James had occupied during their training. It seemed as if nothing had changed, and after all of their hard work, they were left in the same place as they had begun. Nowhere.  
The house had been found in pieces. The last bit of hope that they had held onto had fallen that night with the intrusion. But at least Lily had her child. At least Harry was alive.  
Moody gave James one more glaring look, before slamming the door and hobbling down the corridor. It was well into the second hour of the morning, and the sky was as dark as ever. James sat on the bed, shaken from the night's events. They had gotten an urgent owl from Sirius, saying that he was at Remus's house and with Harry. The three of them had been trying to get a hold of Lily and him for a day, and didn't know exactly where they had gone.  
James and Lily had gone back home, as promised. And had found it in ruins. They had spent a good amount of the past day trying to get help, but so far away from Headquarters and their friends, they had no where to turn to. Finally Sirius's owl had come and they had written him back. Sirius had come on his motorbike, and the three of them had entered the cabin right at the same time as Moody was dusting himself off from the soot in the fireplace.  
They were safe, but their house had been attacked by two Death Eaters. And what was he supposed to think by that? That it was all his fault? That he couldn't go out for once with his wife to enjoy life without Death Eaters attacking? That it was somehow his doings?  
No, it wasn't fair.  
"Dadda," Harry said, clapping his hands together, and his bright eyes smiling up at his father. He was sitting on Lily's lap, bouncing on her lap. Lily was still in her good cloak from the outing that they had had. She was looking her baby over for any injuries, even two hours after their arrival at the cabin.  
"It wasn't our fault if we wanted to go out for one night," James said, standing up, "It wasn't our fault to try to have a life."  
"We don't have a life," Lily said, still looking at her son. She had that same look on her face that she had had the night of her mother and father's death.  
"We don't have a life to live, James," she repeated, looking up at him with glassy eyes, "That house . . . I thought we may grow old together in it. It was burnt to the ground. Wherever we go, they know where we are. We can fight them, but in the long run we're still running away from them. We can't live like that! We aren't living!"  
"I'm going to get a job, Lily," James said, kneeling down to her, "And I'll go to work for Moody at the Ministry, just like Sirius. And I'll . . . I'll buy you a new house, and we'll . . . .The war's almost over, Lily . . ."  
"Why can't you just leave?" she asked quietly, "I'm ready to go. Why are you still holding on?"  
James's face fell, and then hardened. He took Lily's hand in his, and then looked to his son.  
"Don't you ever wonder what your parents would have thought of your actions?" he asked her, "And how they died in vain?"  
"I know that my father would have wanted me to be happy," she said, "That was the most important thing to him. That I was who I wanted to be, and that I was happy with myself. But James, I'm not happy . . ."  
"My father wanted me to be proud," James said, interrupting his wife, and now staring into her green eyes, "My father wanted to be proud himself. He wanted me to join the Order. He wanted me to fight. And I have to."  
"Your father is dead," Lily said, "How many times do people have to say this to you for you to get it through your thick skull? Your father is dead because of his pride. Frank and Alice are in hiding . . ."  
"Frank's a coward," James said.  
Lily stared at her husband for a long time, before breaking away from him, and standing to walk to the door. She opened the door, and then turned back to look at him.  
"James, I love you," she said, "But sometimes I swear you think you're still at Hogwarts. This isn't a game, James. We're adults now. He wants to kill us."  
James didn't answer, and Lily sighed.  
"It's time to go, James," she added, and then stepped out into the hall.  
  
"And so I say to him, 'Of course I wanted the duck!'"  
Everyone in the living room laughed together as Sturgis finished his punchline. The Order members had all gathered together for a good reason this night at Moody's house: To protect the Potters and their child. Lily and Harry now sat with them, Lily curled up on the couch. Dorcas, the Prewetts, Sturgis, and Emmeline surrounded her, all drinking either a bottle of butterbeer or tea. It was if nothing had happened that night, yet everyone knew it had. Moody had gone out for the night to check up on something or other, and he had not returned yet.  
Gideon and Fabian, their matching brown hair now grown to their shoulders, sat next to each other, talking to Dorcas. They were speaking of some sort of bargain Dorcas had found in a small wizarding shop, and Gideon seemed very interested in the prices of new brooms.  
They were both largely built men, those twins. They looked almost exactly identical, if it hadn't been for the fact that Gideon sported blue eyes and Fabian brown. That's the way that Lily had told them apart. Harry had fallen asleep in her lap. He looked so perfect. So peaceful and calm and innocent.  
"Dear," Emmeline said, sitting next to Lily, "I know you're worried. But you should calm down. Go get some rest."  
"I can't," Lily said, giving out a sigh, "I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep for a while now."  
Emmeline looked at Dorcas, and then at the Prewetts. Finally, Gideon stood to enter the kitchen.  
"Maybe another round of butterbeer?"  
Everyone agreed with murmurs of "of course" or "sure," and then the room was muted again. Dorcas, her dark expression gazing over to the two girls, seated across from her. Her and Lily had never gotten to know each other as great friends. Dorcas was the sort of woman that would have enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts more than Quidditch or Charms. She lived for the Order, had never had a family, and seemed to be quiet and distant from the world. Her black almond shaped eyes now stood out from her pale skin and raven colored hair. She was so different from Lily, with her red locks and green pupils.  
But something was shared between them at that moment. Something neither of them could explain.  
"Vance," Dorcas said in her lower voice, and Emmeline looked to her.  
"Yeah?"  
"How about you go help Gideon in the kitchen," Dorcas asked. It was more of a command than a question. Emmeline, getting the message, retreated through the door. Sturgis and Fabian followed her in and out of the room. Lily looked longingly after them, but didn't move.  
Dorcas then pulled back her hair, setting it behind her ears, and edged closer to her. Lily looked at her, unsure. She didn't know this woman. She wasn't like Emmeline or Alice or herself. She was unknown to most of them.  
"Mrs. Potter, do you know why I joined the Order?" she asked. Lily shook her head, and Dorcas folded her hands on her lap.  
"My husband was killed. Along with my daughter and son," she said darkly. Lily felt her heart drop. But Dorcas didn't look at her, but just continued with her story.  
"His name was Matthew. We met at the train station in my seventh year. I was going to Hogwarts, and he was a luggage boy for one of the Muggle lines. It turned out he was a Muggle himself. We fell in love, and married in our twentieth year. I went to live as a Muggle, yet I still kept my job at the Ministry. The next Christmas, Elizabeth was given to us, and then her younger brother the following year. His name was William. William Meadows. I kept my husband's name, even after that night."  
Dorcas's eyes grew darker, and they narrowed as she scanned the floor rug.  
"That night, we were in our beds, when they came. It was a night of one of the first Muggle riots. It was that night that Elizabeth was screaming from her bed, and William ran into our room, bawling. I grabbed him, and Matthew went for my little girl. William and I made it out before the Death Eaters attacked our house, but Matthew and Elizabeth . . ." she paused, and then shut her eyes, "I saw from where we hid across the street, two cloaked men dragging Matthew away by his hair and . . . they killed him right there.  
"William cried, and they heard him. They came for us, and all I could do was run. All I could do was think about my son and how I had to save him. All I could do was pray for them to stumble or for us to be able to fly away somehow. I had not wanted this life for my family. For my children," Dorcas paused again, and then looked at Lily, jaw set, "But they caught us. And they took William from my arms, and held a wand to my throat. I fought back. I killed them all. But William had been taken away. I never saw either of my children again. I don't know what happened to them, and I hope that I never know. Do you know that feeling, Lily? That desperation in which you would give your own life for your child if it would only save them from that fate? I live with that every day, wondering if somehow William ran away from them, with his sister . . . and they're out there somewhere . . . But as the years pass, I lose hope."  
"I'm sorry," was all Lily could say, and Dorcas didn't seem to even hear her.  
"Hope is the only thing we have left, Lily," Dorcas said, "That hope to know that somehow that sun will rise again, no matter what else happens. And I still have that hope. I have it in your son. And by watching you, and your husband with him. Don't let me lose my hope."  
"So," Lily said, hardly able to speak, "What do you think we should do?"  
Dorcas hesitated for a moment, and then looked back to the carpet, "Whatever you need to do to protect your son."  
Lily waited for more, but none came. So the two women sat, nodding, understanding the other's story. There was nothing more to do but hope. Lily knew that. And Lily knew what she had to do.  
BAM!  
The two of them started, and Lily gasped. Her head shot toward the front door, and her eyes widened.  
BAM!  
The door was shaking. Something was outside.  
"What is that?" she whispered, and Dorcas shrugged.  
"I don't . . ."  
BAM!  
"POTTER!" a howling voice came from the front step.  
Lily felt her breath become sharp as she recognized the voice. It was a voice from long ago. One that came to her and her husband in the woods, and then in a brokendown house, and then again in a cold dark room. The voice that haunted her dreams, and inspired her nightmares.  
"It's him," Lily croaked, "They know . . ."  
She reached for her wand. Dorcas looked to the girl's hand, and then suddenly grabbed it.  
"No," she said, "No, you're not going to fight."  
BAM!  
"What?" Lily cried, and Dorcas heaved her to her feet.  
"Go to the fireplace," she said, hurried now.  
BAM!  
A piece of the door cracked off and went skidding across the hallway. A green light shone through the hole that the assailant had made. Dumbledore had guarded the Headquarter's entrance with spells that could not be easily opened, but this other person on the front step was powerful. He would eventually make it in. And when he did . . .  
"Now listen to me," Dorcas said, shoving Lily and Harry toward the hearth and grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, "Go to Remus Lupin's. Your two friends are there. Bring them back here with as many Ministry officials you can find. Send an owl to Dumbledore. You have to go . . ."  
"NO! JAMES!" Lily screamed, now hysterical.  
"We're here! We'll give our lives before letting him touch them," Dorcas assured her, "Just go. Just go . . ."  
Her voice was so calm, and there was not even the slightest trace of fear in her tone. And for that, Lily trusted her. Lily trusted that this woman that she barely knew would help her family.  
And so she went.  
"Remus Lupin," Lily said, dropping the Floo Powder, and then disappearing in the flames.  
Dorcas was alone in the kitchen as she spun around, and readied her wand.  
BAM!  
The door was almost ready to splinter apart.  
BAM!  
"Come on," Dorcas murmured to herself, "Come on, you . . ."  
BAM!  
"Come on . . ." her dark eyes narrowed again, and her body tensed, as if waiting to leap onto her prey.  
BAM!  
The door was kicked in, and there he stood. All donned in black and red, and green sparks shooting from his wand. His face could not be seen behind the shadows of his hood, but a smile could. A smile of a demented and powerful man.  
"Meadows," he sneered, raising his wand, "What a lovely surprise."  
  
Remus sat on his bed, watching Sirius making himself something to drink. He didn't know what it was, and he wasn't about to ask. Sirius hadn't gone home. An owl from Dumbledore told him not to. That would be the next place the Death Eaters would check, due to the fact that it was Sirius that took Harry away.  
"So, would you like anything while I'm up?" Sirius asked his friend, and Remus shook his head. He wasn't feeling very well.  
And there was something on his mind.  
Sirius came back to the main room, and took a seat on the chair that had been pulled apart by Remus. Sirius looked around for a moment, remembering the destruction of this place.  
"It's been hard since you guys stopped coming," Remus said quietly.  
"As I can see," Sirius agreed, and then took a drink of his beverage.  
Remus was still hurt by the words of James Potter. He hadn't seen his old friend in a good five months, and now that he had . . . he never wanted to see him again. He didn't care if James fell off the face of the earth . . . it wouldn't even bother him.  
"Getting late, isn't it?" Sirius yawned, and then sprawled out in his chair, "Wonder when I'll be able to go home."  
"You're welcome here as long as you like," Remus said, his hospitable instincts kicking in.  
Sirius gave him an odd look, and then closed his eyes.  
"Sirius?"  
He looked to Remus, who was still upright in his bed, "Yeah?"  
"Why here? Why is this the safest place you could think of?" he asked, and Sirius shrugged.  
"Well, I just remember when we were boys," he said, "And whenever we needed to hide, you'd cover for us. That's just the way it was. And you always did a good job of it . . ."  
Remus nodded, and a slight smile twisted onto his face, "Right."  
Sirius exchanged the grin, and then closed his eyes again.  
Remus lay down, feeling somewhat comforted. At least one person still trusted him, still saw him as a friend . . .  
"Just wait," the wolf laughed, settling down next to Remus, "Just wait, Remus. They'll all turn against you."  
"Shut up," Remus whispered.  
"James already has. Don't you remember the way he looked at you?"  
"Shut up."  
"It draws nearer, Remus. It draws nearer."  
"It . . ."  
"It draws nearer. It draws nearer."  
Remus closed his eyes, and the wolf leaned in to his ear. Then, putting a paw to Remus's own mouth, it said again, "It draws nearer."  
"What did you say?"  
Remus's eyes shot open, and the wolf retreated to a corner of the room, sniggering. Remus sat up to look at Sirius, who looked very pale.  
"What? Nothing."  
Sirius stared wide-eyed at him, gawking. As if Remus was some sort of exhibit at a zoo. One that could easily kill him.  
"It draws nearer," Sirius said, "That's what you said. That's what you just said."  
"I didn't . . ."  
"What draws nearer, Remus?" he said, almost accusing. Remus was confused.  
"I . . . I don't . . ."  
"What draws nearer?"  
"I don't know," Remus said truthfully, even though he had a pretty good idea of what it was that would. That day that he had thought of so many times in his mind when the world would break apart. But he didn't say anything. He just looked back to Sirius, frozen stiff from his friend's inquisitory stare.  
Sirius couldn't move. It had been from his dream. The figure, illuminated by the moon, saying "It draws nearer . . ."  
And marking the door with a green X.  
He had to get out of here. He had to run. He had to go get someone and tell them what he knew. He had to escape this place. The werewolf was going to kill him. He was going to flat out murder him and there would be no one to hear him while he did it.  
"I have to . . ."  
With a blast of smoke, the fireplace shot alive, and a body came flying out of the soot and dust. It fell on the floor, and coughed. Something was in the person's arm, screaming and crying.  
"Lily?" Remus addressed it, and Lily stood, her eyes bloodshot and Harry in her arms.  
"THEY CAME! THEY KNOW WHERE THE HEADQUARTERS ARE! HE'S THERE! HE . . ."  
"Who's there, Lily?" Sirius started, setting his drink down. Lily, in a swarm of tears and rage, ran to him and embraced him.  
"We have to go! James . . . he . . ."  
"Who's there, Lily? Who came?"  
Lily buried her face into Sirius's chest, and then finally screamed, "Voldemort!"  
Both of the men froze, and then Sirius grabbed Harry and handed him to Remus.  
"You stay here," he said, "Watch Harry. Do not let anything happen to him, or by God, I'll come back and kill you myself."  
"I . . ." Remus started, but they were already grabbing for the Floo Powder.  
"Stay here," Lily said, unaware of the hatred between the two men, "Please, we need you to contact Dumbledore and the others."  
"I have to go with you . . ."  
"STAY HERE, LUPIN!" Sirius commanded, and then they were gone.  
  
"FOR ENGLAND!"  
A blast of silent green light as Emmeline turned around to shut the kitchen cupboard. She screamed, and Gideon and Fabian grabbed her and pulled her down as the green light shot through the door.  
Something dropped outside, and Emmeline screamed again. It had been Dorcas's voice shouting.  
They knew what had happened.  
"What's going on?" Sturgis demanded.  
"Someone's here," Emmeline said, her hands shaking, "Someone found us."  
"All right," Fabian said, pushing his hair out of his face, "We're here for a reason, right? To protect the boy. And that's what we're going to do. Even if we die in the process. Does everyone understand?"  
They nodded, and Fabian squeezed Emmeline's shoulder, "Good. Now, James is upstairs. He thinks Harry is up there as well. We can't let them get to the second floor. Do whatever you have to do. This is our duty. This is our war."  
And with that, Fabian gave out a battle-like cry, and shot out of the kitchen and into the living room. The others followed him, and they all stopped suddenly at the sight of Dorcas's body, glowing with green.  
"Dorcas!" Emmeline gasped.  
All of the candles had been burnt out, and now only the streetlights from outside illuminated the darkened room. Yet they could make out the shape of a cloaked man, almost floating up the stairs. Up towards Harry Potter.  
"VOLDEMORT!" Fabian shouted, and Voldemort turned around to face the stupid boy.  
"Fabian Prewett," he hissed, and raised his wand, "Yes, I know who you are. I know who all of you are. You'd be best to run before they get here. They're on their way."  
"Tom Riddle, you are under arrest . . ."  
Voldemort began laughing, somewhat amused at their pitiful attempts to scare him.  
"Now isn't that a name I haven't heard in a while," he chortled, and then pointed his wand to the door, "They like to call me by a different name."  
And then, they came. Thirty Death Eaters, all donned in their uniforms, and all ready to kill. Their wands were pointed towards the small group of Order members, and Fabian didn't budge. His small army stayed behind him as they prepared themselves to fight to the death.  
"Move aside," a low Russian voice came, and the sea of white masks parted. Out from the depths of them came an uncovered face. One that they all recognized.  
Antonin Dolohov had returned, and his scruffy face sneered at the proud soldiers.  
"Hello, Prewett," he said with his thick accent, and then his eyes shifted to Dorcas's dead body, and he laughed.  
Emmeline glared as he took happiness from the sight of Dorcas, and she started forward. Sturgis pulled her back, and Dolohov laughed again.  
"Oh, little children," he said, "That is what they give us to fight. Little children."  
Fabian looked back to the staircase, and his mouth dropped.  
"No," he hissed to Gideon, "He's gone. He's upstairs."  
Emmeline leaped onto the marble staircase, followed by Sturgis. But it was too late. Dolohov raised his wand, and blasted a red light to the stairs. They crumbled, and with a large crack, fell to the ground in a heap. Emmeline screamed, and jumped out of the way of the falling marble. When she looked back up at where the stairs had been, only a large pile of rubble lay there, the dust flying. The second floor was too high up for them to reach.  
"You are mine," Dolohov laughed, "You are all mine."  
  
James lay in his bed, staring at the top of the ceiling. Maybe there was some truth in what Lily had said to him. Maybe he did think too much of himself and his image. But really . . . he knew it wasn't Hogwarts. He knew he was grown up. He knew . . .  
"JAMES POTTER!"  
James jumped up, out of his bed. Someone was coming from the corridor outside. Something was wrong.  
"GIVE ME THE BOY, POTTER!"  
James fumbled around in the dark for his glasses and wand. He found them, and then started towards the door, wand out. Where was Lily? Where was Harry?  
BAM!  
The door fell, and James was faced with green smoke. Out of the smoke came the man he had not seen for years. The man smiled at him, evilly, and laughed.  
"We meet again, for the last time," he said, "Finally I find you here. Out of all places. Right where you began."  
"Voldemort," James hissed, and Voldemort laughed again. The laugh was icy and cold, and it pierced right through James's body.  
"Where's the boy, Potter," Voldemort snarled.  
"He's not with me," James said.  
"Don't lie, Potter. I know where you are every minute of the day. I know who you're with wherever you go. Now where is the boy."  
"He's not here," James said again.  
Voldemort glared at him, as if studying him, and then realized he was telling him the truth. He shot a red light through the wall, and a lamp fell on the floor and shattered.  
"DAMN!"  
  
The Death Eaters were guarding the pile of marble, and encircling the four Order members. They had all come here together years ago, when they had been recruited by the Headmaster himself. The pride that they had felt at that time could have been enough to keep them all alive. But now the only thing that resided in their hearts was hate. Complete hate for these creatures daring to come into their house and kill them.  
"Let us see here," Dolohov said, stroking his chin, "I say that the large arrogant ones can go first. Don't you think?"  
A Death Eater to his right nodded, and laughed.  
Fabian lunged forward, "CRUCIO!"  
Dolohov ducked the spell, and a Death Eater behind him fell to the ground, screaming. Dolohov, with a smirk on his face, raised his wand to Fabian.  
"Go," Fabian muttered to Sturgis and Emmeline, "Get up the rubble. Get to the second floor. We have to save James. Get up there."  
"But . . ."  
"Go!" Fabian said, giving a determined look to Emmeline, "We'll hold them off."  
"You'll die . . . you can't take them all on by yourself!"  
"So we will die," Gideon said, as determined as his brother.  
And with that, Emmeline and Sturgis ran from behind the twins, and waved their wands to the Death Eaters guarding the pile.  
"CRUCIO!" they shouted, and two of them fell to the ground, shaking. Dolohov didn't seem to care. His prey at the moment were the twins. It is how a hunt went. Choose a prey, and stick to it until it was dead.  
Emmeline and Sturgis began climbing the large pile of marble, trying to scale the mound. Fabian looked back to the Death Eaters, now circling around them. They were going as heroes.  
"Ready to see Mum again, Gideon?" he asked his brother, and Gideon nodded.  
"Seems like we're due for a trip there, doesn't it?" he agreed.  
"It certainly does," Fabian murmured to himself as he saw Emmeline and Sturgis mount the pile to reach for the edge of the second floor. Dolohov stood in front of them, raised his wand, and said the words.  
"Avada Kedavera," he said, and the green light shot through Fabian. His face became one of surprise, and a soundless scream escaped from his mouth. After the light had subsided, he fell to the ground. Emmeline screamed, and Gideon took his wand to the surrounding Death Eaters.  
"THE PREWETTS SHALL DIE TOGETHER!" he shouted, "AVADA KEDAVERA!"  
Five Death Eaters dropped, stone dead, and Dolohov raised his wand again. Gideon ran towards him, ready to plunge his own wand into Dolohov's heart.  
Sturgis pulled Emmeline to safety just as the Russian opened his mouth. She turned, and screamed again.  
"NOO!" she cried, "GIDEON!"  
"Aveda Kedavera," Dolohov said, and the last green light shot from his wand. Gideon stood, not screaming, not surprised. Just solid. He closed his eyes as he made impact with the green jet. It struck his chest, and then his heart, and then his back, and then out of his body. He spread his arms, and opened his eyes to stare at Dolohov with a stare that had no emotion or feeling to it at all. Emmeline and Sturgis watched from the second floor as he dropped his wand, and the green light disappeared.  
Gideon then quietly fell back, his arms still outstretched like an angel, and he landed next to his brother on the ground.  
The Prewetts were dead.  
"No," Emmeline whispered, "No!"  
"Come on," Sturgis said, grabbing her and making her stand up, "We have to go."  
  
James was slammed up against the wall as Voldemort pointed his wand toward him. He gave out a howl, and Voldemort fed off of his pain.  
"Tell me where he is, Potter," he said, all amusement gone from his tone, "Tell me where he is, or I'll kill you."  
"Then kill me," James said, and Voldemort swished his wand toward the bed. James felt himself flying to the mattress, and his head banged up against the bedpost.  
"WHERE IS THE BOY, POTTER!" Voldemort demanded.  
"You tell me," James said, almost losing consciousness.  
"I will kill her," Voldemort hissed, drawing nearer, "I will kill your beloved Mudblood wife. I will kill your friends. I will kill them all if you do not tell me where the boy is."  
"Then kill them," James muttered.  
"YOU STILL DEFY ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Voldemort said, and then stuck his wand to the spine of James's back, "CRUCIO!"  
The pain was indescribable. His entire body jolted like no other time before, and he almost forgot himself in the electrocution of the shock. But he didn't scream. He bit his tongue until he could taste blood, but he would not scream.  
"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"  
James didn't answer, and the pain increased. He could feel his nails clawing into his palms, and his body twist and shake, making the entire bed twist with him.  
"TELL ME!"  
"NOOOOOO! NEVER!"  
And then the pain was gone. Voldemort stood, confused, above him, and James gasped for breath. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.  
"You are stronger than I thought," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing, "And yet you will not live. I will kill you if you do not tell me where the boy is."  
"THEN KILL ME!" James cried.  
Voldemort could not find his weakness. He seemed not to have one. James made that oath with his friends years ago. Forever Alive. They were willing to die for him. He knew that. He had no weaknesses. He had none left.  
Voldemort had destroyed most of them, but had just strengthened others.  
  
Sirius and Lily fell out of the fireplace, and Lily gasped. Dorcas Meadows was dead on the floor, and the staircase had been blown to bits. They could see people moving in the front hall, from where they stood. They were Death Eaters.  
And in the midst of them, were the dead bodies of the Prewett twins.  
"Come on," Sirius said, "We have to get to James. Voldemort's already up there . . ."  
And the blast of green light came from over their heads. They ducked, and Lily ran ahead of Sirius, right into the awaiting danger.  
The two of them rushed into the hall, and saw who awaited them.  
"You," Lily started.  
Dolohov laughed, and turned from the Prewetts to the new prey.  
"Ah," he said, "It's the Mudblood and the traitor. What a coincidence. We were just discussing what we were to do with your son as soon as we get a hold of him. Were we not?"  
The Death Eaters nodded, and chuckled to themselves. Lily glared, and raised her wand.  
"Avada Kedavera!"  
A voice had come from behind them, and struck two Death Eaters to the ground. Dolohov's smirk disappeared, and melted into a disgusted expression. He looked past Lily and Sirius, and his fist grew tighter.  
"Alastor," he snarled.  
Moody now stood in the front entrance, looking more determined than the rest of them put together. He glared at Dolohov, and then raised his wand again.  
"Who told you where we were, Antonin," he ordered.  
Dolohov didn't reply.  
"Who. Told. You."  
"I would have thought you would have known by now, Alastor," he said in his sour voice, "Not up to your usual standards, sadly."  
Sirius and Lily saw that Moody was now looking at them with his large eye. Then it turned to look at the rubble. Then back to them.  
"Now why would you say that," Moody said, not taking his eye off of Sirius. Sirius nodded, and then grabbed Lily as they headed for the mound. All of the Death Eaters were focusing on Moody now, and didn't notice them slip past.  
"Don't think that I don't know how you treat him," Dolohov chortled, "You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."  
"Antonin Dolohov," Moody said, seeing Lily and Sirius clamber up the marble, "You are under arrest."  
"Oh, this again?" Dolohov said, somewhat entertained.  
"I will kill you this time, and no amount of sweet talk will bring you back from the dead," Moody warned, jabbing his wand closer, "I will."  
"I bet you will," Dolohov said.  
The Russian looked to the swiveling eye, and saw that it wasn't directed towards him. He looked closer, and saw a reflection in it. A reflection of two people climbing to the second floor.  
"NO!" he spun around, and aimed his wand at the Mudblood, "IMPERIO!"  
Lily screamed, and then grew limp. Sirius grabbed her, and then spun his head to look at Dolohov. Dolohov only smiled.  
"Mr. Black," Lily laughed from his arms, "There's no escape from a nightmare."  
  
No weaknesses. The boy had no weaknesses left. He would do anything for his spawn. How did you defeat a boy who had nothing left?  
Offer him what he lost.  
Voldemort's smile returned, and he sneered at the boy now laying on his stomach on the bed. James couldn't breathe. He couldn't see straight. He felt as if he was dying.  
"What if I told you I had a proposition to make," he said, his voice as smooth as ice, "What if I told you that I could make everything perfect again?"  
James didn't reply. Or maybe he was incapable of replying.  
"What if I gave you your family back?" Voldemort proposed, "Your real family. Not that Mudblood and mutt child. But your real family?"  
There was a realization in James's eyes as he stared out into nothingness. He thought he was beaten. But this thought gave him strength. His real family.  
"I know how you've yearned to see your father again," Voldemort said, coming closer to the bed, "I know how you cry at night, waking up to who you think is your mother. I know everything about you, James. I know more than you do yourself."  
James's breathing became rapid, and Voldemort saw this. He had him. He had him in his clutches.  
"You give me that boy," he said, almost whispering now, "And I will return your family to you. Your house. Your sister. Your mother. Your father. Even your stupid house elf."  
James closed his eyes, and opened them again to look at a focused room. But it was not the room that he had been in a moment before. It was his room. His bedroom at his childhood home. The sun was out, and it was peering through his window and onto the Quidditch posters taped to the wall. It was just how he had left it all of those years ago. His bedspread showed the Chudley Cannon's logo, and his broom was propped up against the far corner across from him. His desk was littered with pictures and crayons and candies and other assorted things that a little boy needs.  
He could see the hallway from where he lay in his bed, and it was illuminated with the early rays of sunshine radiating from the dawn of a Saturday morning. He could hear a lively pair of footsteps running up the stairs, and then appear in his doorway.  
It was a little girl, with the loveliest eyes he had ever seen. Her dimples showed as she smiled at her younger brother, and her pigtails bounced.  
"Come on, James!" Wendy giggled, "It's snowing!"  
James couldn't move. She was so perfect. So young.  
So alive.  
"Master James! Master James!"  
Another figure appeared in the doorway, and Wendy moved out of the way for Sprite to come flying into his room. She was carrying his socks, and she flopped them down at the foot of his bed. Her worn mitten was as good as new, and she wore it as proudly as the day she was given it. Which didn't seem that long ago.  
"Master James should get dressed before Master James and Mistress Wendy go outside! It is too cold for Master James!" Sprite argued, throwing a ball of socks at James's head.  
"Sprite, can you please leave James alone and go fix breakfast?"  
James looked back to the door, and there behind Wendy was his mother. She was young, and her face was illuminated by his window's light. She was beautiful.  
"Hello, dear," she said, putting a hand on Wendy's shoulder, "How was your sleep?"  
And before James could open his mouth, he saw him. The last to arrive in his bedroom, and the one that he had wanted to see all along.  
A man with a strong chin and dark eyes was standing behind his mother, his glowing smile directed toward his son. His stomach was larger, due to the years of Sprite's cooking, and his hand was shoved into his right pocket as far as it could go, just as it always had been. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he beamed at his youngest child.  
  
It was his father.  
"I'm so proud of you, son," he said, and James couldn't find his voice to say anything back. So he just stared at his family, all standing in the door, smiling at him. They were alive.  
This was his true family.  
The one he had lost so long ago.  
What he would give just to make it real. Just to make them come back to life and be with him once more.  
"Come back home, James," Mum said, resting her head on Dad's broad shoulder, "We've missed you. Come back home ."  
"This can all be yours," Dad said, "Just give them the boy."  
James felt his hand reaching towards his father, wanting to feel his touch again. Wanting for him to hold him and hug him and never let go. He was home . . . He was . . .  
And then another person entered behind Dad and Mum and Wendy. One that did not fit with the black hair of his parents. The red curls stood out from his family's and James squinted to see who it was.  
Green eyes. The girl had green eyes.  
Who was she?  
"James!" she cried, and James blinked. It was Lily!  
He had almost forgotten!  
"James! No!" Lily said, rushing forward and past his family. She couldn't see them. They were ghosts.  
"Lily . . ."  
"No!" Dad shouted, "No! She means nothing to you!"  
And Dad hit Lily. She crumpled on the floor, and fell silent.  
James shot up out of his bed, and the bedroom dissolved back into Moody's house. Voldemort stood over Lily now, glaring down at her.  
"STUPID GIRL!" he howled.  
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" James shouted, with a new sort of strength. Voldemort's gaze shot to him, and his eyes narrowed.  
"YOU!" he said, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU ALL UNTIL THERE ISN'T ONE MORE POTTER ON THIS DAMNED ISLAND! I'LL KILL YOU!"  
And he started for James, his wand raised. James braced himself. This was the end. He knew it.  
"Say hello to your father for me," Voldemort snarled, and then stuck his wand between the boy's eyes, "He was a fool, just like you. Avada . . ."  
"AVADA KEDAVERA!"  
A green light shot through the back of Voldemort's cloak, and the Dark Lord winced. The light could not go all the way through his body, for it was too weak. Voldemort snapped around, and came to face to face with another man.  
Sirius Black.  
"So James was right. You are human," he laughed.  
Voldemort, the back of his robes charred, spread his arms, and opened his mouth. A wind and sound like no other burst from his throat. Like a siren or a hurricane, it hit Sirius, and his hair was blown back out of his face. His feet left the ground, and he went flying out the door, down the corridor, and off of the second floor.  
Down to the pile of jagged marble he went. He saw it coming closer and closer as he flew through the air.  
His body hit the rubble with a thud, and his head richoched off of a pointed edge. The last thing he saw before growing limp was Moody, in the midst of the Death Eaters, fighting them off.  
Then he closed his eyes.  
And all was dark.  
  
Voldemort stood there, for a moment, choking on something inside of him, before turning to James, and between intakes of breath, cursing him and Sirius.  
"This is not the end, Potter," he gasped, the Avada Kedavera curse fighting inside of his chest, "This is not the end. The next time we meet, I will kill every one of you. I promise you that."  
And then he was gone with the shadows of the night. James stared at where he was, and where his father had been.  
He had heard the words from his father.  
He was proud of him.  
He was proud of his son.  
Then he looked to Lily's crumpled body, still laying still and quiet on the floor. He had chosen her. He had chosen Harry.  
He now knew what to do.  
He had his answer.  
"It's time to go home," he whispered to himself.  
  
The reports would read that Gideon and Fabian died, surrounded by Antonin Dolohov and his Death Eaters. Dorcas Meadows was killed by Voldemort upon his entrance. Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore were struck unconscious by a Lily Potter (who was under the Imperius Curse at the time). Lily Potter, after breaking her way free, was struck unconscious by Voldemort. Sirius Black received a blow to the head by Voldemort as well. And all Death Eaters involved were taken into custody. This included Dolohov.  
Not long after Voldemort's flight, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order entered through the front door. Frank Longbottom was with them. It was the first time in months that he had shown his face.  
When Lily was revived, she wouldn't speak to James about what had happened before her arrival in his bedroom. All she could say was, "I beat it. I beat the curse."  
  
Gideon, Fabian, and Dorcas were all three lost that night, and they were taken away by the Ministry as soon as Crouch and Toddles arrived, along with Cornelius Fudge. The others were taken to St. Mungo's.  
That is where James now sat, at the bedside of his best friend who had given his well being to save him from his fate. Sirius's head was bandaged, and he still hadn't woken up. James took his cold hand in his as he looked at his friend, who wasn't responding to him. He had gone up against Voldemort for him.  
The Dark Lord.  
He had defied the Dark Lord.  
"Hey, mate," he said quietly, as if not to disturb him, "You're stupid, you know? Going in there for a stupid arrogant bully like me. I hope you know that."  
The room was filled with Emmeline, Sturgis, Moody, Lily, and Sirius, all being checked on for any sort of injuries whatsoever. James had been given the okay, and now he was back into his regular clothes. Lily was talking to a Ministry official about the whereabouts of Remus and Harry, and they were assuring her that they were in good custody at the Ministry itself.  
But Sirius wasn't awake. What if he gave his life because James hadn't gone into hiding earlier? God, he had been an idiot. Why had he done the things he had? He should be saving the family he had left, not mourning the one he had lost. Lily and Harry was all he had left. He hadn't seen that.  
He had only seen his father. And the expression he wore when James had turned his back on the idea of joining the Order.  
But now he saw that father of the night gone before. The father that was proud of him. There was something real about that father. Something that Voldemort couldn't have created. It was the authentic look of his father that he didn't remember clear enough for Voldemort to pull from him.  
It was real.  
And now he knew what to do.  
"I'm so sorry, Sirius," he said, looking back at his still friend, "I'm so sorry."  
And as James closed his eyes, a small mischevious smile curled onto the unconscoius man's face. Soon, laughter broke from his mouth, and James looked up.  
"You little prat!" James said, hitting him, and Sirius howled with laughter as he opened his eyes to block James's blow.  
"Well, you can't expect me to split open my head and not get any sympathy from no one, hey?" he said, and James hit him again.  
"You had me scared, you git!" and Sirius chortled as James joined in the laughing. Lily and the Ministry official stopped talking and looked over to see what the commotion was. Moody also looked in their direction, but he paid no heed to James.  
He only stared at Sirius.  
The words of Dolohov's came back to haunt him.  
"You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."  
"So he let you live, huh?" Sirius asked, and James nodded.  
"It would seem that way, wouldn't it."  
The two friends sat there for a moment, as Sirius adjusted his covers, and then James said, "Sirius?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I've made up my mind," he said, "And I want to tell you first."  
"Okay," Sirius said, "What is it? You picked out a new house?"  
"No," James said, "I'm going into hiding."  
Sirius's laughing ceased, and he became very solemn. He folded his hands, and gave a small smile.  
"You are?"  
"Yes, I am."  
Sirius nodded, "Good," he said, and then with a second thought, repeated, "Good."  
"I don't know where we'll go, but . . . we'll find somewhere," James assured him, and Sirius nodded again.  
"And I'll be going into hiding, too," he said, "You saw what I did tonight. It'll just be a matter of time before . . . well, you know . . . before he's back for me."  
"Are you scared, Sirius Black?" James asked, half jokingly.  
"No, I'm not scared," Sirius said in all seriousness, "But I have to be alive for Harry, now don't I?"  
With that last comment, neither one of them said another word.  
Their minds were made up, and they all knew what their duties were.  
"James."  
James looked to the door leading to the waiting room, and there stood Frank Longbottom, helping Moody to the door. From what James could make out, Moody's nose was bandaged.  
"The Headmaster requires that he speaks with you. Now," Frank said, solemnly, "We're leaving for Hogwarts."  
James nodded, and then stood from Sirius's side.  
It was time to do the right thing. The honorable thing.  
James Potter had never had more pride. 


	107. Chapter 106: The Traitor

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Dumbledore's office was dark, and only one candle was placed on the Headmaster's desk. This candle illuminated the faces of Dumbledore, Frank, and Moody, all placed in front of James Potter. The latter two flanked the old man, standing on either side of his chair as they were the first day James was introduced to the Order. But this was an even more secretive situation than that of the Order recruitment. It was something that even he did not know of.  
Dumbledore's face was tight, and he had that worn air about him once more. The only safe place left was Hogwarts, and that is why they had gathered there to speak of things that should never be spoken of.  
"Tonight," Dumbledore said, "Our Headquarters were attacked."  
James nodded, looking around to the darkness. The paintings had all been cleared out, and the windows were drawn. Nothing else could be seen.  
"Do you know why our base was discovered?" the Headmaster asked, and James shook his head.  
"No, I don't . . ."  
"Because someone told Voldemort," he interrupted, "Because someone is untrustworthy."  
James fell silent, and nodded, understanding. The spy. They were talking about that myth that one of them was a spy. Did they think it was him?  
"Frank, Alastor," Dumbledore said, addressing the two that stood behind him, "Could you please leave us for a moment?"  
Moody looked surprised, and Frank hurt. But without saying a word, they left as quietly as they had been there. The door shut behind them, and Dumbledore turned to James once more.  
"James, I am going to tell you something that you will not want to hear," he said gravely, "But you have to listen. You have to take heed of my words."  
"I understand," James said.  
"There is a person that is here, with me," Dumbledore said, and James furrowed his brow. Had he finally lost it? "And he is here to speak to you about something that may interest your future plans. Now, you may not want to listen to him, but you must. By Merlin, you must."  
James nodded, "All right. I'll listen."  
And then the candle showed two faces. Behind Dumbledore's desk came another face. This one was darker and paler, and surrounded by black hair. The light was dim, but James would recognize that nose anywhere.  
"Snape!" he spat, and stood, his wand ready. Snape didn't respond.  
"James, sit down," Dumbledore said, and James didn't move a muscle.  
"Headmaster, he's a Death Eater! He was in the fields that one night! I saw him! He's going to kill us . . ."  
"I'm not the one you should be worried about, Potter," Snape hissed, and Dumbledore nodded.  
"You must listen to him, James."  
"I'll never listen to that slimeball!"  
"Still on about schoolboy grudges, I see," Dumbledore sighed, and looked to Snape, "Both of you, I imagine. Well, I must do this the hard way, then."  
Dumbledore raised his wand, and flicked it towards the chair. James felt his body collapse into the seat, and become frozen. He couldn't move! He was stuck!  
"Headmaster!" he said.  
"You must stay to hear this, James," Dumbledore only said, "It is of the upmost importance."  
Snape hadn't aged a day since the night of the Lestrange union. He was just as slimy . . . just as dark as he was the day that they had last seen him.  
"James, Severus is a spy of mine," Dumbledore explained as Snape took a seat next to Dumbledore. Every wrinkle in his face could be seen, exaggeratted by the candlelight, "He has been now for quite some time. But you cannot tell anyone this. Not even Sirius."  
James didn't say anything. He just glared at his old enemy.  
"He has heard things, James," Dumbledore said, "Things that you need to know."  
"Do you remember Professor Klien?" Snape asked, looking right back at James. James was taken aback by the question, and he nodded.  
"Do you remember how he recruited six students at the end of first year?" he plowed on, not caring if James remembered or not, "They all were called into his office in one night, to be told of the Death Eaters and the opportunities that awaited them."  
"You would know," James snarled, "You were one of them."  
Snape paused, and then smiled, "Oh, you ignorant little boy."  
"Continue, Severus," Dumbledore pushed him on.  
"Well, there were not only six recruits, but a seventh. That recruit was never found out," Snape said, "But we have good reason that it was a Gryffindor of the first year. They went to Klien's office on June the seventh of that year.  
"The description that Mrs. Norris gave Filch was one of a smaller boy, with a Gryffindor robe. This boy seemed to be carrying a silky cloak with him that suspiciously resembled what one would call an Invisibility Cloak," Snape continued.  
"Well, that could be anyone," James said.  
"No," Snape said, "It could not," he took out a picture from his pocket, and smoothed it out. He showed it to James, and James's eyes widened. He now knew what this was about.  
In the picture stood four boys, waving at the camera. They were eleven years of age, all wearing Gryffindor robes. In James's hands was the cloak that they had all cherished. Peter was next to Remus, waving frantically and laughing. Remus was giving Sirius a fatherly look as Sirius smacked James, and James massaged his arm.  
"This boy," Snape said, pointing to James, "Was the only boy in the Gryffindor house that owned an Invisibility Cloak."  
"What's your point?" James pressured him, "It wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking."  
"We know it wasn't you, James," Dumbledore assured his guest, "You couldn't have been. We thought that it may have been you, when you did not sign the contract, but we have evidence that points to someone else."  
"In the past three years," Snape plowed on, "There have been reports of secret details that the Order has not wanted disclosed to anyone but it's members. For example, the names of our members, where their families live, and the prophecy concerning your son. As soon as the prophecy was reported to the Dark Lord, there were other points in your life that no one would know but a close friend. Who was with the child at certain times. Where you were living. When you would be occupied," he paused, and looked back to the photograph, "Who you trusted.  
"Tonight was just one of the examples of these small instances in which the wolf in sheep's clothing seems to sneak back to the den. Headquarters . . . somehow that secret was given away. And they entered."  
"What are you saying?" James asked, and Dumbledore sat straighter.  
"James," he said, "Someone has been watching every move you make for quite some time now. Someone close to you has been handing information to Voldemort."  
James felt the room spin, and all he could do was look at that picture of the four of them. He knew what they meant by "someone close to you." His lifelong friends. The only people he thought he could trust. They had to be wrong. Somehow they had to be wrong.  
"It's . . ."  
"It makes sense," Snape said, "Who else would have been able to know that you and your wife would be out for the evening? Who would know so many things about you? Voldemort is not that powerful, Potter. Only a fool would believe otherwise."  
"You're wrong," James said, shaking his head vigorously, "They . . . they're my family. My brothers . . . they would never . . ."  
"We have reason to believe that we know who it is," Dumbledore said, "We know exactly who it is, actually."  
Snape looked back to the photograph, and then to James, "Sirius Black showed the world that he was capable of murder during his sixth year at Hogwarts."  
James stared at Snape, and then back at the photograph. They were playing a joke on him. This couldn't be real . . . his best friend? His brother? Sirius? Padfoot? How could Sirius be a traitor? He had spent his entire life trying to go against his family's wishes, and he was part of the Order.  
He thought Lily would turn before Sirius.  
"But he saved me tonight!" James said, looking for some sort of something to hold onto, "He almost died for me!"  
"Yes, Sirius was brave by putting on an act of courage," Dumbledore said, "Yet his spell was not strong enough to kill Voldemort. It was a weak one, actually. A stunt to put you off of your guard, I'm afraid."  
"That's not true!" James argued, now starting in on Snape, "You . . . You always hated him! You were jealous of him! We humiliated you in school! That's why you're doing this!"  
"James, Alastor believes it is Mr. Black as well," Dumbledore said, and James grew silent. His shoulders slumped, and he looked to his feet.  
"We conferenced earlier this night," the old man said, "He says that Dolohov said something to him to make him believe that it is truly Black."  
"His family has a history, Potter," Snape said, "And he knows everything about you."  
"But he escaped the Death Eaters!" James said, "He escaped them . . . he saved Harry! How could that be . . ."  
"Another stunt, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said, "Do you have any proof that there were any Death Eaters that night at your house? Who was the only one to see them? Sirius was."  
James didn't say a word, and just looked to the floor. There was nothing to say.  
"Now James," Dumbledore said, "I must beg of you to go into hiding. The stakes are too high. I cannot afford . . ."  
"I already am," he said, "I made the decision tonight."  
Dumbledore's face relaxed, as if he had been expecting another fight between them, "Good," was all he said, and then Snape spoke.  
"It would be good if you did not speak to any of your friends about it," he said, "I know that you all are very close to each other (the tone in which he said these words were mocking his fallen enemy), but this is your life we are talking about."  
"Now," Dumbledore said, "Your father's old town is far away from the London limits. It is mostly occupied by Muggles in the present day. I propose you go there."  
"Godric's Hollow?" James asked, and Dumbledore nodded, "Until when?" James added.  
"Until the war is over," he informed him.  
James nodded in agreement, "And we'll have a Secret Keeper?"  
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "And I would be willing to take on the duty . . ."  
"Sirius will be our Secret Keeper," James said, not waiting for Dumbledore to speak, "He's already thinking of going into hiding after this night."  
"Are you that daft?" Snape said, his voice becoming louder, "Didn't you just hear what we said to you? Are you still that thick headed?"  
"Sirius Black has given his blood for me," James said, "And I would trust him with my life. I trust him more than I do my own self."  
"He'd kill you without another thought about it!" Snape said, standing to lean over James, "And yet you pledge loyalty to him! This is what friendship does to you, Potter! It blinds you!"  
"Sirius would never become one of Voldemort's spies," James said, and Snape winced at the name of the Dark Lord, "He will be our Secret Keeper, and no one else."  
"It is irresponsible of you to . . ."  
"Oh, shut it, Snivelly," James spat, and Snape grew silent. The greasy man glared at him, and then took a seat in his chair.  
"This is what I get," he said, looking to the Headmaster, "For trying to save his life."  
"James, I do not think it wise to rely on friendship at the present moment," Dumbledore said, "Once a wizard goes to the Dark Side, frienship means nothing to them. They forget themselves, James. They do not care for anyone but themselves."  
"But Sirius isn't on the Dark Side, is he," James defended his friend, "I would have known."  
"What?" Snape snorted, "You think he would have told you?"  
If James hadn't been chained to the chair at the present time, he would had stood and strangled that slimy little git. He would have killed him . . .  
  
"I trust your judgement, James," Dumbledore said, and then lifted the spell from his captive, "I trust it better than my own. You know these boys. You know what they are capable of. You saw something good in each one of them with anyone else would have shunned them away. But I must beg you to reconsider."  
"I won't," James said, "I choose him. We swore an oath, Headmaster. We swore that we'd die for each other. Someone messes with one of us, it messes with all of us. And everything that Sirius has done up to this point shows me that he has upheld that oath. Now I have to uphold it, too."  
The two men in front of him looked at him, not saying a word.  
"Headmaster," he said, almost pleading with the old man, "Haven't you ever had faith in someone . . . even something . . . that they would do the right thing? That, no matter what, they could not be wrong? I have faith in my friend. He's more than a friend to me. He is my family. And I would die for him, Headmaster. I would. Because I know he'd do the same for me. Can't you understand that?"  
"Yes," Dumbledore said, nodding slowly, "I can."  
The worn face smiled wisely at James, and Snape grew silent. Dumbledore continued nodding, until placing his hands on the desk, and looking to Snape.  
"I know what you are speaking of," he said, not taking his eyes off of his spy. Snape didn't respond to the Headmaster's gaze, but just looked into the candlelight. Both men knew what he spoke of. Snape and Dumbledore didn't need to say anything else for both of them to understand the other.  
"And I trust you, James," Dumbledore said, finally looking back towards him.  
James nodded, and then the lights in the office were turned back on by an entering Frank and Moody. He couldn't remember walking back down the long steps and out of the office. He kept thinking about that photograph.  
One of his friends was a traitor to them all. Someone had broken their oath.  
And all he could think about was that little boy, punching him on the arm, forever to laugh in that little picture.  
  
"They said what?" Sirius started, standing up in his chair. They were all assembled at his house, where James and his family were staying until arrangements could be made for their hiding place.  
Remus was sprawled out in a chair, his arm over his eyes and trying to sleep. He hadn't slept for two nights, and now he was exhausted. Peter sat rigid on the couch, next to Lily. And James stood in the middle of the room, now facing Sirius. James had called them all together to talk with him, but none of them could have imagined what he had wanted to talk about.  
"One of you is a traitor," James said, "A spy for Voldemort."  
"That's dung," Remus muttered from his chair, half asleep, "Why would any of us want to go to the Dark Side?"  
"And who do they think it is?" Sirius demanded. James couldn't look him in the eyes, and Sirius grew stiff, "Who, James? Who did they tell you it was?"  
James didn't reply, but looked to Remus, "Everything points to one of you three."  
"They think it's me, don't they?" Sirius pressed him.  
"And I don't want to believe it, but I . . ."  
"They think it's me, James. Just say it!"  
"I can't really think of how else . . ."  
Sirius grabbed James by the shoulders, and shook him, "Don't they? They told you it was me!"  
"But I know it isn't you!" James shouted, and Sirius let go of him, surprised. James faced his old friend, and shrugged, "I know it isn't."  
"Why not?" Remus asked, "How come you're so sure about him, but not about me or Peter?"  
"Because I know him," James said, looking into Sirius's black eyes, "I know he wouldn't do anything like that."  
"You know us, too!" Peter whined, "You've known us just as long!"  
"Don't get worked up, Peter," Remus said, sitting up, "The great James Potter has spoken. He's always trusted Sirius over the rest of us."  
"That's not true . . ." James started.  
"Admit it, James," Remus said, starting in on him. He had had no sleep in the past forty eight hours. He was sick of this. He was sick of being blamed for everything wrong in Potter's life. He was sick of it all, "That's why you chose Sirius to be the Best Man, and Harry's godfather. That's why he was with Harry two nights ago, when the Death Eaters came."  
"Remus . . ."  
"That's why you never trusted us," Remus said, pointing to Peter and then himself, "We weren't good enough for you. Someone forbid that you actually befriend a werewolf. I'm sorry I was such a burden to you!"  
"Remus, please!" Lily spoke up, Harry in her lap asleep, "You're going to wake the baby."  
"I'm tired of it!" Remus shouted, standing from his spot, "I am nothing but a friend to you, and you have the audacity to accuse me of being a spy for Voldemort? I can't believe you, Potter!"  
"Remus, just listen to him," Sirius tried to set a hand on his friend's shoulder. But Remus tore away from him, and glared at him.  
"Don't touch me," he snarled, and then grabbed his moth eaten cloak from the chair, "I don't need to hear this."  
As he headed for the door, Lily looked to her husband. James, sighing, turned to his old friend.  
"Moony, please don't leave," he said, "We have to talk this out."  
"No, James, we don't. You've already done enough talking for all five of us," Remus said, his voice growing softer. And then he slammed the door behind him.  
Peter watched Remus leave, and then look back at James, "So who do you think it is?"  
James, his eyes still glued to the door, shook his head, and then said, "I don't know, Wormtail. I really don't know."  
  
It was later that night that Lily and James went to bed, Peter went home, and Sirius went to his own room. He had lived in the same house for a good year or two, and he had slept so many nights under this roof. But now, he couldn't. There was something wrong with everything that had happened.  
One of his friends . . . one of James's friends . . . the traitor? The spy? Which one of them would have turned to Voldemort's side, when all any of them talked about was the end of the war?  
A desperate one, Sirius thought to himself from his bed. He looked up at the ceiling, and spread his arms out across his pillows, A desperate person in need of the end of the war.  
Dumbledore thought it was he himself. Well, how wrong Dumbledore was. This left two people. Peter and Remus.  
Both had been very odd people, and yet . . . one of them bothered him immensly.  
A cough came from outside in the living room, and Sirius sat up to look out the crack in his doorway. Someone was sitting on his couch, with a cup of water and a forlorn look on his face. He was still dressed in his day robes, and he was all alone. Sirius, grumbling, got out of his bed, dressed himself, and entered the small living room adjoining his room.  
James turned to see who had awoken, and smiled sadly as Sirius came to sit next to him. His head still throbbed from the last night's battle, and he wore one of those Healing bandages over his forehead, as to make sure it healed correctly. The bandages brought memories of Remus and his use for them. Sirius shivered as he patted James on the back, and then leaned into his cushions.  
"What's keeping you awake?" Sirius asked, and James shrugged.  
"Everything," he said, and then sighed, "I was just thinking about when we were kids."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah," he said, "You remember when Remus was going to leave school? And I stopped him from walking out that door?"  
"Yeah," Sirius said, with not the fondest taste in his mouth. It had been the time in which his boggart had turned into a werewolf, and their friend had packed his bags and was ready to ship out, "I remember."  
"But we stopped him," James said, looking at his cup, "And he stayed with us. But tonight . . . I let him go."  
"And why did you do that?"  
James lowered his head in shame, and then took in a deep breath, "Because he was already gone."  
Sirius nodded in agreement, and then put an arm around James, "I know, mate. I know."  
"He's been gone for a while," he said, "I thought that we had him back when Harry was born, but then he slipped away again. And maybe it was partly my fault, and the things I said. I probably shouldn't have told him off like I did all those times. But there's something else. I know it. Something else is going on in his mind. And I don't know if it's the wolf, and that thing is taking over . . . or if it's something else."  
"He's the spy," Sirius said, as if he was giving away some sort of fact of life, "He's the traitor."  
James looked to Sirius, and shook his head, "No. No, not Remus."  
  
"James, I usually don't look into dreams and foretelling and all that," he said, shifting in his stance to face him, "But I've had this one for a while now. It comes in different ways and different scenarios, but it's always the same. First, I thought maybe it was my stupidity, or my nerves, but they continued . . . James . . . I have this dream that Remus kills me. And they've been getting worse. First he just came into my room and cursed me. But then it turned into different things. And two nights ago, when the Death Eaters came . . . I had this dream that this person was marking Harry's door with a green X. And he was in the moon's light. And he was saying, 'It draws nearer,' over and over again. And I know it was Remus. I knew that person. It was him. I'm sure of it."  
"That's just a dream, though," James said, "It doesn't mean anything."  
"Harry's prophecy means something, doesn't it?" Sirius pointed out, and James buried his face in his hands.  
"James, he's a werewolf. When we first met him, we were young. We didn't know any better. We thought he was a person. But he's not. The Ministry doesn't watch things like him for their jollies," Sirius sighed, and shook his head, "I don't want to believe it myself, but . . . he said those words to me. He said 'It draws nearer.' And he wasn't even aware of it. I think the wolf may be taking over somehow. I can't explain it myself, but you saw him tonight. He snapped at you. Remus isn't one to act like that. But we know the wolf. We know how it acts."  
"Remus has always been in control."  
  
"Has he?" Sirius asked, and James couldn't answer. So Sirius just continued, "And that night after your wedding, when we were coming home from that job in the sewers? He said to me, 'We're all the same.' He said that we were just the same as those murderers. His family hasn't been touched by the Death Eaters, even if he has Muggle connections. And most of all, that night . . . when you and Lily were taken to Dolohov's? Who led you in there? You said that Remus was calling to you from above. You just assumed that he was under the Imperius Curse. But did you ever find out for sure?"  
James couldn't answer this either. There were a million things now pointing away from Sirius and to Remus. Remus was a werewolf. Remus had acted strangely for months. Remus had known all of the information given to Voldemort. He had known that they were going out that night. He had known that Sirius and Peter had been asked to watch Harry, and not him.  
He had been aware of it.  
He could have told Voldemort easily.  
"What about Peter?" James said, "It could easily be him."  
"That snivelling little rat?" Sirius laughed, "No. Peter'd be too scared of Voldemort to even come close to him. He'd wee his knickers before he could say anything to him. No, it's not Peter. He's weak. And think about it. If what they say is true, and this boy had an Invisibility Cloak with him, then think back to that year. Did Peter ever go anywhere without one of us?"  
"No, not that I can think of," James said.  
"He was afraid of the space under his bed, let alone the corridors outside," Sirius said, "No, he wouldn't have gone wandering off by himself. Remus, on the other hand, easily could have. He spent all of that time alone anyway, why not add an extra stroll down to Klien's office?"  
"But Klien would never have let him join."  
"Whoever said that Klien got to pick out who he wanted?" Sirius pointed out, "Voldemort hears there's a werewolf at school. He knows they're easily pursuaded. He orders Klien to talk to him. What, Klien's going to say no to the Dark Lord?"  
"Then there's nothing else," James said, "That's all I can think of."  
"He said it to me, James," Sirius said, "He said those words to me. And he looked at me in this cold, dark way. He said 'It draws nearer.'"  
A cold shiver came up James's spine, and he gripped his cup. He closed his eyes, and then nodded.  
"Then we're agreed," he said, "On who it is?"  
"I think we are," Sirius said, and nodded.  
  
That night, James had a dream of his own. It didn't include murderous werewolves, though. It was a calmer, more loving dream than the ones that Sirius had told him about. This dream took place in the Gryffindor Tower, on a particular afternoon in which Darryl Avery had entertained them by telling Professor McGonagall that they had stuck him on the Astronomy Tower. There had been truth in that statement . . .  
The scene came back to him as real as the time it had been played out.  
"You're talking nonsense, Mr. Avery," Professor McGonagall said, "Now clean yourself up, and get some new trousers on. Class starts in an hour."  
The four boys' eyes drifted down to Darryl's pants. There was a large wet spot covering the front of them. Sirius gave out a "ah!" and James bit his lip to stop from laughing.  
"Nice," Sirius commented as soon as Professor McGonagall had left.  
"Just you wait," Darryl glared at Sirius, "Just you wait, Black! I'll see that you never forget this! I'll show you."  
"What are you gonna do? Wee on me?" Sirius smiled his sly smile, and Darryl ran towards him, fist raised. But someone caught it in mid air, and forced Darryl away from him. It was Remus, and he looked ready to kill.  
"Like Sirius said," he said in a calm voice, "You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. Don't you touch him."  
Darryl looked frightened for a moment, but then collected himself, and looked back at Remus's astounded friends. Then he whispered so only his captor could hear, "You just wait until they find out what you are, werewolf. Then we'll see who's singing all for one and one for all. They'll abandon you. I know it, and you know it."  
Remus glared, and tightenend his grip on Darryl's wrist.  
"Get out," he said, and then pushed him back onto his bed. Darryl was still smiling as he picked himself up and closed the door behind him.  
The other three boys were still in shock as Remus sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and made his way to his trunk for clean clothes.  
It had only been one time in a thousand in which Remus had stood by them. As the night drew on, James saw their Hogwarts days played out, as if they were racing forward through time. Finally, he reached one evening that he had never forgotten . . .  
  
When they arrived back at Hogwarts, Sirius, Peter, and James opened the door to a surprising scene. There was Remus, dressed in his scarf and mittens, shutting and locking his trunk. His belongings were all gathered. He looked at them as they came in.  
"Remus, what are you ."  
"I'm leaving," he said quietly, and then took a handle on his trunk.  
"And you weren't even going to say goodbye?" Peter asked.  
"Wait, why are you going?" Sirius barked.  
"Because I've decided that I wasn't fooling anyone," Remus said loudly, "Because . it's no use, and I'll always be . well, this just isn't the place for me anymore."  
"You're out of your mind," James said, "We've been working for two years on that stupid Animagus spell, and you're just going to quit? This isn't like you!"  
"Goodbye," Remus said, wheeling his trunk past them, but Sirius dangerously jumped in front of him, and slammed the door with a BANG. Remus looked at him, unsure, and then gritted his teeth, "Move, Sirius."  
"No, I'm not letting you walk out of here," he said, "You are not going to let me push you out of this school."  
"It's nothing about you," he retorted, and then went to move for the door, but Sirius violently pushed him back. Remus looked somewhat scared.  
"Sirius!" James said, but Sirius wasn't listening.  
"Look, Remus. Both you and I know that I can't change what I saw," he said, "I wish I could, but I can't. You want to truth, Lupin? I'm scared to death of that thing I saw that night. I can't lie. I'm scared. Yeah, that's right. Sirius Black is scared of something. But you gotta show me up. You have to prove to me that I'm wrong. You can't walk away from us like this."  
Remus stared at him, and then gripped the handle on his trunk, "The world doesn't revolve around Sirius Black and James Potter. There are other things ."  
"No they're isn't," Sirius said boldly.  
"Professor McGonagall is scared of me. Why do you think she treats me so sweetly? Darryl thinks I'm some sort of monster! And you ."  
"No one thinks you're a monster, Remus," James cut in, "If we thought that, do you really think that we would be sitting here, trying to get you to stay? Let alone trying to prepare ourselves to go down in that tunnel with you?"  
Remus's grip on the trunk loosened, and then James said, "You keep thinking that we're gonna abandon you, Lupin. And what you're gonna end up doing is abandoning us out of that fear. You're not alone, Remus."  
"But I am," he whispered.  
"No," Sirius said, "No, you're not. Remember? Something messes with you, it's gotta mess with all of us, right? Isn't that what we agreed on?"  
Remus looked at Sirius, and then at James, and finally at Peter.  
"All for one and one for all, right?" Remus said weakly, and James smiled.  
"Yeah, Lupin," he said, "All for one and one for all."  
James grabbed his trunk, and pulled it back to his bed. And the dream faded away. Far away into the dreams of monsters and broken houses and marble staircases. 


	108. Chapter 107: Arrangements are Made

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author concerning the rest of this story: This is how I envision the end. I have taken clues from the books and the movies to compose the finale to this story. Please understand that this is how my story will end, and that every author and every reader is going to have a different adaptation of Halloween, 1981. This is this author's take on it. I did not write why Remus was accused, why they didn't see Peter for what he was, or why Dumbledore didn't trust Sirius. It is all part of Rowling's world (when I, personally, would have seen it was Peter right away. Don't know about the rest of you, but it's sort of obvious the way that she set it up. We have two adorable characters, and then a little . . . oh, what is his animagi animal again . . . that's right . . . A RAT!). We all have different ideas on why James and Sirius acted the way that they did, but this is how I wish to interpret their actions. Please respect that, and I hope you enjoy the last few chapters of this story.)  
  
(Note from the author concerning misspellings of important spells: Also, I apologize for the misspelling of the Killing Curse, once again. I understand that I am incapable of spelling it correctly. There's some sort of road block in my brain. Lol.)  
  
The cabin was covered in leaves of autumn as Lily walked to the front porch of Remus's home. There was a large wood pile to the left of her, set up against the wooden wall. A rusted axe stood in a tree stump, and it looked like it hadn't moved for quite a while. Lily had been here only a few days ago, but now she had to return.  
James was late.  
That night she had had a horrible dream, reliving her experience at Headquarters. She had thought she had been lost. They had hit her from behind, and Sirius had grabbed her in his arms.  
"Lily! Lily, wake up!" he shouted, trying to pull her up onto the second floor from the marble ruins, "Lily, come on. Come on, wake up!"  
Lily could feel her own hands clawing at his skin, and herself spitting into his face and cackling loudly. There was nothing she could do to stop it.  
"Black traitor!" she laughed, "You'll never see your friend again!"  
"Lily, come on," Sirius said, grabbing her from under the arms, and heaving her over the side of the ledge, "Come on, Lily . . . We have to find James . . ."  
"Who is that?" a whispered voice came from the corridor ahead of them, and Lily raised her wand.  
"Crucio!" she said, and two bodies fell, screaming. Emmeline and Sturgis. They struggled and wriggled with pain, and Lily could do nothing but stand and watch.  
"Vance!" Sirius said, rushing to Emmeline's side. But Lily had already grabbed him by the collar, and threw him aside with the brute force of twenty men. Sirius fell against the wall, and caught himself before landing on the floor. He raised his wand, and shouted, "EXPELLIRAMUS!"  
Lily's wand went flying, and she glared at him.  
"How dare you, you . . ."  
"Come on now, Lily," Sirius said, "I'm not going to fight you. Get a hold of yourself. Come on."  
Lily had then heard Voldemort's voice from down the hall. Mudblood wife and mutt child . . .  
And she thought now that it was at that moment she gained control. She knew she had to save her family.  
Family seemed to be an important thing to all of them. It was now, to James. There had been a change in him in these past days as they tried to find a house and place charms and curses on it to keep them safe. They were actually leaving tomorrow for that beautiful Muggle two story on the outskirts of James's paternal town. They were packing up, and shipping out. James said he had a Secret Keeper, and she would be performing the charms on him tomorrow night.  
She had gone back to Professor Flitwick at Hogwarts yesterday, trying to learn all of the complicated ways of the charms, how to pronounce everything correctly, and how to put it to use. James said she always had a knack for charms, and therefore he trusted her to perform the spells. Before leaving yesterday, to say goodbye to Peter and Remus, he had told her who the Secret Keeper was to be.  
She had almost died.  
"I know he's your best friend, James," she said, "But Dumbledore said that we shouldn't choose him . . ."  
"I don't care," James said, "I trust him."  
And so, without any acknowledge to her wishes, Sirius Black had been named their Secret Keeper.  
They would be dead within a week.  
Sirius had never shown any support to Voldemort, but people changed over time. But James had just stood there, and said, "Why can't you trust him?"  
"Because I've seen what he's capable of, James," Lily said, "I know what he can do."  
"But haven't you ever looked into his face . . . into his eyes . . . and just see that you can tell him anything? That you could hand over your life to him, and you'd be okay? He gets that look to him, and you know that everything will be all right."  
"I've seen a look on his face," Lily said, "But it isn't a good look. His eyes get dark, and he looks dangerous. I've seen that look enough times."  
"No," James said, shaking his head, "No, not that one . . . it's different. It's this look of complete understanding. Like no matter what happens in the world, he'll still be there helping you through it. It's loyalty, Lily. He has loyalty to me and to you as well. You just have to trust him."  
But Lily knew she would never trust him. Yet, for some reason, she went along with James's plan. Somehow she didn't stop herself from screaming and demanding that the job went to Remus.  
Remus had promised her that he would take care of James. He had put up with so much of James's arrogant ways that it wasn't a surprise that he walked out of their conference the other night. She thought he would have done it a lot earlier.  
But at least James said he was going to say goodbye to them both last night, and he had left that evening of the day before. The problem was, he hadn't come back home, and Lily was starting to worry, now that it was around noon of the next day.  
She had gathered Harry up in her arms, and started out for the Lupin residence, all of those miles away.  
Now she was here, and somewhat confused by the lack of life in the small little forest. Almost everything was silent, and nothing was moving inside of the house. Harry's cold breath could be seen as she crunched through the leaves, and she bounced him on her hip as she stepped onto the porch, and then to the front door. She looked at the makeshift sign that stood there.  
JE NE MOURRAI PAS  
"I will not die," Lily whispered to herself, and Harry laughed.  
"Die!" he giggled, "Die! Die! Die!"  
"Shh, Harry," Lily said, and then knocked on the door, "Remus? Are you in there?"  
There was a clatter of pots, and some muttering from inside as someone flew out of the back of the house and ran to the door. Quickly, the door flew wide open, and Remus stood there, in his house robes.  
"Lily . . ." he started, and Lily smiled innocently enough as Harry smiled at this familiar face.  
"Ree-ree!" he squealed, and Remus gave a small grin to the boy.  
"Hello, Harry," he said, and then looked back to Harry's mother, "Did you want to come in?"  
"Actually," Lily said, hoisting Harry up farther on her waist, "I was sort of wondering if James was here."  
Remus was caught off guard at this question, and he furrowed his brow, "Um . . . No, Lily. James usually doesn't come here anymore," he said, as if she were a little slow.  
"He said that he was coming to say goodbye," she said, as Remus led her into the front room, "We're leaving tomorrow night, you know."  
Remus stopped in his tracks, in the midst of shutting the door, and he looked at Lily as if not catching her words, "What?"  
"We're leaving tomorrow night," Lily said, "Didn't someone tell you?"  
Remus, now looking to Harry, and then to the thin air, shook his head, "No. No they didn't."  
"They didn't?" Lily said, confused herself.  
"For how long?" he asked, as Lily set Harry down on the wooden floor. He stood up on his small legs, and waddled to the side of a chair.  
"Until the war is over," she said, and then looked to Remus, "So James didn't come?"  
"No," Remus said, "No one came."  
Lily saw the slumped, defeated figure of Remus, and something broke inside of her. She had seen this person suffer so much, mostly due to her own husband's stupidity. And now his only family was leaving him . . . leaving without telling him . . .  
"I'm so sorry," she said, grabbing him close to her and embracing him in her arms. Remus, taken aback, slowly returned the embrace, and they stood there together, not saying a word. They both knew what the other was feeling.  
James Potter had done this for the last time.  
  
It was later that night that James returned home to Sirius's small flat. Lily had spent all night waiting for him, after tucking Harry into bed. She had thought of all the things she was going to say to him upon his return, and had memorized somewhat of a speech for him to hear.  
The speech included her telling him off for treating Remus like a piece of dirt, for acting the way he did, for blindly believing in a man like Sirius Black, for putting his family's life in danger by not going into hiding in the first place, and of course for not thinking of either her or Harry when making decisions that concerned all three of them.  
All of these things were racing through her head as the front door of Sirius's living room. Lily was waiting in the extra guest room, where she and James had slept for the past few days. She could hear Sirius snoring from the room next to them as James quietly entered the bedroom, and took out his wand. He pointed it to the candle on the bed table, and said, "Lumos" in almost a dead voice.  
He thought his wife was asleep, but as soon as the candlelight burst to life, he saw her eyes, glaring at him . . . her left eye twitching.  
"Lily . . ." he started, and Lily threw a pillow at him.  
"You didn't go to Remus's house to tell him," she said, "First you treat him the way you did, and now you don't say goodbye!"  
"I . . ."  
"You are a complete ass!" Lily shouted, not letting him speak, "You never consult me on anything! You tell me you're going somewhere, and I spend all day worrying about you! I spend all day wondering where in God's name you might be! We were supposed to be preparing for tomorrow! We were supposed to be together! You might be off and lost or dead or . . . how am I supposed to know you're all right when I don't even know where you are?"  
"Lily, I . . ."  
"And I went to Remus's today, James," she said, "I saw him. And he's crushed. You killed him, James. And if he dies because of that . . . thing . . . inside of him while we're gone? . . . I'll know how it took control of him. All of his friends are turned against him. Especially the one he thought he could count on!"  
"He's the spy, Lily!" James shouted out, raising his voice for the first time. Lily looked as if she was going to add something, but she was silenced by this last comment. She just stared at him, in disbelief. It seemed the world was crumbling around her, falling down into ash.  
Remus. The spy.  
It was impossible.  
It was completely impossible.  
"He couldn't . . ." Lily started, almost choking on the oncoming tears.  
"He is," James said, very calm and not raising his voice, "Sirius and I have suspected it for a while now. We didn't know what it was, but we knew something was wrong."  
"But he's . . . he's our friend . . ."  
"He'd kill us if he had the chance," James said, "We know it's him. He doesn't care about any of us anymore."  
"That's a lie!" Lily argued, "It can't be him! It's . . ."  
"Me?"  
Both of them looked to the doorway, where Sirius now stood. He was leaning up against the doorway, his arms crossed. His expression wasn't one of anger or sadness, but of understanding. He nodded, and said, "That seems to be the general concensus through the community."  
Lily turned her emerald eyes to Sirius, and James could see the candlelight flickering in the oncoming tears that now had started down her pale cheeks, "No. No, I . . . it's not Remus. It has to be someone else. It's not . . ."  
"Lily, he's a werewolf," James said.  
"But . . ."  
"I had a dream, Lily," Sirius said, "And in the dream, Remus was marking Harry's door for Voldemort."  
Lily screamed, and fell back onto her bed, her head in her hands. Remus . . . good Remus . . . the one that would kill Harry if he could? She couldn't believe that. She just couldn't . . .  
"We're all three together in this," James said, as Sirius drew nearer to the bed, "We're not going to let anyone get left behind. Forever alive, Lily. Remember?"  
"I remember," Lily whispered, not moving.  
"I swore to you, Lily," Sirius said, "To protect your son. And to protect you. That's what I am. That's my job. I'm Harry's godfather. And I will always be there to protect James and his family. Please trust me, Lily."  
It wasn't like Sirius to beg, and all Lily could do was wipe her eyes, sit up to face the two boys, and weakly nod.  
"We're a team," James said, "And Voldemort can't break that. He can't kill us as long as we stay together. We're going to beat him. And we're going to live."  
"Forever alive," Sirius said, touching Lily's hand. James set his on top of Sirius's hand, and the three of them sat there, bound by two of the most fragile things in this world.  
Trust and hope.  
  
October 24, 1981.  
That is what the calendar read on the wall in Dumbledore's office. James sat in the chair that he had been placed in that night, when Snape had been here. But now it was only him and Dumbledore, sitting once again in the office that he had gotten to know quite well.  
The world was falling apart, and yet Hogwarts stood proud and tall. It hadn't changed since his days here with his friends. It now pained him to think of those times. How blind he had been to think he could trust Remus.  
"You wanted to speak with me, James?" Dumbledore said, waking him from his reverie. James looked to the old Headmaster, and nodded.  
"Yes," he said, and patted a sack that lay next to his chair, "Yes. I wanted to see you before tonight."  
"Is everything in order, I hope?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Yes," James assured him, "Lily's ready to perform the spell, and Sirius is willing to help us. Peter and Remus won't be there, and we'll be gone by tomorrow morning."  
"I hope that you also understand that no one is to be told the secret. Only Sirius will know where you hide. The Order will not be able to assist you in any way, and your friend, Mr. Pettigrew, will not know where you are. Only Sirius."  
  
"I understand."  
"You will be informed by Sirius when the war is over, and when it is safe to return," Dumbledore said, "We have already arranged a Secret Keeper for him."  
"Thank you," James said, and then lifted the sack to his lap for Dumbledore to see, "This is what I wanted to see you about. I wanted you to . . . to do me a favor."  
"What sort of favor would that be?" Dumbledore inquired of him.  
"To hold onto my things," James said, "Just in case . . . well, my will is in here. Along with a key to my vault at Gringotts, and another key for Harry is in there . . . Along with a few photographs that I don't want ruined, and . . . and a little bit of money from my parent's legacy for Sirius . . . they would have wanted him to have some of it . . . and my father's cloak."  
"You're entrusting me with your father's cloak?" Dumbledore said, as James handed him the sack.  
"Yes," he said, "Yes. It's all for you to take care of until I get back," James said, "Please, Headmaster. I have no where else to send it."  
"James, don't you think that Sirius would take better care of it?" he said, as if he were testing James.  
"Yes, but . . . I know it will be safe with you," he said, "And when Harry comes here to school, and if I'm not . . . if I'm not able to give him what he needs . . . please take care of him. Please, Headmaster. Please help him be happy. Give him my cloak, and give him my money . . . and please just let him be happy."  
"I will love him as if he were my own, if that case ever comes to be," Dumbledore said, "I will treat him as if he were James Potter's son himself."  
James smiled sadly, and then watched as all of his precious belongings were set behind the desk, and Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk as if going back to business.  
"I don't want you dwaddling in thoughts of death, James," he said, "You are a very wise and very resourceful young man. And I believe that you will survive this war. All of your family. Do not worry. We have secured your house, and Voldemort will never find you. I promise that he will not."  
"Thank you," James said, and Dumbledore nodded.  
"Your father would be very proud of his son." 


	109. Chapter 108: Cecerete Ceepere

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The city was alight with life that night. Cars drove past the small flat building, mothers tucked their children into bed, and fathers returned from their late working jobs. Life had continued on, contrary to what was happening inside flat number 308.  
Sirius could see Jessica, that woman from so many years ago, tucking her son into bed this night. What had been his name? What had been her last name? It had all faded away, the past few years.  
None of it mattered now.  
After all of these years, and after all of the people he had met, only one face had stayed as bright and as alive as the last night he saw it.  
Elise Warren.  
He had once told James, months after her death, that if she had lived, she may have been the one for him. He hadn't known her long enough to determine if this was true, but he hadn't met anyone after her that could outdo that girl he had lost. No, he hadn't pined over her, but it was some sort of comfort to him that there may have been someone out there that had been made to just be with him. James had a family.  
He did not.  
He would have given anything to go home and see a girl's face smiling at him, his son being rocked in her arms. His best friend didn't know how lucky he was. And he doubted if he ever would.  
"Do you know where the box with the bedsheets went?" James asked, coming out of their bedroom.  
Sirius turned from his window to face the scattered living room. Boxes and things were stacked ontop of each other, all marked and ready to be delivered to Godric's Hollow. Sirius shrugged, and pointed to the kitchen.  
"Probably in there," he said.  
James nodded, and ran behind the counter to retrieve a box marked, "BED." Harry was sleeping away in a makeshift bed on Sirius's couch, and Sirius found himself staring at the baby for the hundredth time that night.  
It's all for you, kid, he thought to himself, Don't you disappoint us.  
Harry stirred in his sleep, and Sirius smiled to himself.  
Don't you forget me, either, he added.  
"James, what time is it?" Lily asked, emerging from the bedroom. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she carried a cleaning rag, "We have to move all this stuff there by midnight tonight."  
"It's eight o' clock," James said, looking at his watch, "We better start getting out of here. Are you ready, Sirius?"  
Harry was tucked between two blankets, his perfect skin so pale under his jet black hair. He had grown so much in the past year, and Sirius still couldn't believe that they had celebrated his first year of birth three months ago. He was perfect.  
"Sirius!"  
Sirius jumped to attention, "Yeah, yeah. I'm ready."  
"Lily?"  
Lily looked hesitant, gave Sirius one more look, and then nodded slowly, "Yes. I am."  
"All right," James said, and set the "BED" box on the "BABY" box. They didn't have too many things to take to the new house, due to the fact that most of their belongings had been destroyed. But the Order had pitched in, and had bought them some necessities of life. The three of them crawled over the pile of junk, and then made their way into the bedroom.  
It was the moment that they had all three been waiting for, and yet dreading. Sirius couldn't believe that it was finally here. The moment that he could make a difference. The moment that he would prove to the world that he . . . Sirius Black . . . was worthy of the Order.  
But most of all, it was the moment in which Lily could trust him.  
"Sit on the bed," Lily said, taking over. James found a seat next to the windowsill after shutting the door behind them, and looked out to the rooftops and chimneys. They contrasted with the dying light of that day gone by. The last day of his freedom.  
Sirius took a seat on the bed, across from Lily. She looked nervous. She didn't have faith in him.  
"It's all right," he assured her as she reached under the bed for her spell book. Flitwick had lent it to her during one of his lessons with her, and now she treated it as if it were a venemous insect, ready to strike and kill her at any time. Sirius touched her hand, and her head whipped around to gawk at this man. Who was he?  
What was he thinking?  
Could she really trust him?  
"I know," she said, her hand now shaking as she situated herself on the bed. She took out her wand while opening the book. The illustration on the sixtieth page showed a man, with colored light surrounding him in a swirled design. The light was slowly seeping into his mouth, and making his body glow with that same colored light. Then the light was gone, and the man waved out at the reader. Finally, the illustration repeated itself, the light re-emitting itself into the air and forcing itself down the man's throat again. Sirius wondered if it would hurt.  
He didn't care. It was too late now.  
"Give me your hand," Lily instructed him, still reading the page. Sirius obeyed her, and extended his left hand, palm up. She rested her beautiful fingers on his, and then raised her wand to his wrist.  
"This may feel a little funny," she said slowly, not sure herself, "And this is the first spell in five. Each one is to take a short amount of time, but they're very complex," she looked at him, her green eyes sparkling from behind her red bangs, "Are you sure you want to do this?"  
"Are you?" Sirius asked her, and she gave out a forced laugh.  
"It isn't really a choice, Sirius," she said.  
"It isn't for me, either," he replied, and she bit her lip.  
Lily looked back to the book. Was she making a mistake? Should she stand up and demand that it should be Remus? That they should kick Sirius out and never let him see her baby again? Should she run? What if she was just signing her own death warrant for trusting this man?  
Lily was staring at the book, her eyes scanning the page. Sirius knew she was nervous, and having second thoughts. He was having a few of those himself.  
He looked over to the windowsill, where James sat. That boy had meant nothing to him the first day they had met. Or the second. He had just been a regular boy who stole Chocolate Frogs from a food cart. One in a million trouble makers that he could befriend at this new school. But then, something had happened. Somehow they had become so close.  
He couldn't let anything happen to him. He wouldn't be able to go on living if anyone touched James or scarred him in any way. He couldn't let that happen.  
This is the only way I can save them, he thought to himself as Lily started chanting the first spell. A small, cold sensation had flowed through his veins, and he winced a bit.  
Voldemort can torture me, I will never tell him anything. I'll die before letting that freak get to them, he thought, I can only trust myself now. I know what I am and what I'm not. I'm not a traitor. I am a friend. That's all that I can be sure of.  
The coldness swept through his body, and he shut his eyes. It did feel funny. But his mind felt clearer, purer.  
But how long until Voldemort finds you? he wondered, How long would it be until he tried to come for you? What if he knew it was him all along? What if Lily did the spell wrong and something would go wrong? What if Voldemort put him under the Imperius Curse and made him tell him? There were a hundred things that could go wrong.  
"All right," Lily said, turning the page, "Here's the second spell. Just don't think about anything, all right? Clear your mind. This one isn't as bad. The third and fourth are worse."  
Sirius nodded, and closed his eyes. What would happen if Voldemort found him? The man probably already knew that it was him that they would pick. What if he wasn't strong enough to fend him off? What if he was forced to tell him? How could he live with himself.  
Lily's cold, shaking hands touched his chest, and Sirius breathed in and out steadily. Lily then closed her eyes, and whispered a spell. The cold that had run through his body now was replaced by a burning sensation. It felt as if his entire body would burst into flame from the inside out, and he clenched his teeth together. His hands became fists, and his body shook.  
Finally, he let out a howl, and Lily stopped, somewhat afraid.  
"I'm sorry," she said, exasperated. She seemed to be hurting as well, "It's to clean your body. I'm sorry. I think that's long enough. I . . ."  
"Just get on with it," he growled, his teeth still gritted.  
Lily nodded, and turned the page, "This one, and the fourth one will melt together for you, all right? Your mind is going to go back into two different times. The past, and what you believe to be your future. It's a way for the spell to find a place to fit itself, in the back of your mind. Back where you store all your older memories you don't want to remember or think about."  
"So everything I've tried to forget," Sirius grunted, "Wonderful."  
Lily raised her wand to his forehead, and took a deep breath, "Cecerete Ceep-ere. Cecerete Ceep-ere."  
Sirius closed his eyes, and slowly felt himself falling back into the darkness of his mind. And a rush of blind memories ran at him, hidding him head on. Voices exploded from his past, trying to deafen him. He gritted his teeth as he heard them all around him, banging, pounding, screaming . . .  
"Do you see Regulus speaking to lowly commoners such as them? No. You will never be associated with any of them. Never. I forbid it."  
"You're not on probation because you were helping Remus! You're on probation because you tried to kill Snape! You tried to have Remus kill him! Don't you see what you've done? Are you that blind, Sirius? Do you really think it would help Remus to have a murder on his conscience? Are you that thick headed?"  
"I dunno. I saw Remus's face, and I was thinking . well, you know, it's gonna happen to all of us sometime. Our parents are going to die. And eventually, we'll die. You know? I mean, I never really thought about it until his mum got all sick ... we aren't here for very long. And it's best to do whatever we can while we're still here ."  
"AAAAAAA - OOOOOO!"  
"Remus?"  
"HEEEEEELLLLPPP MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! MUUUMMMM!!"  
"What's going on?"  
"Could someone shut that lout up?"  
"Wake up! Come on, Remus. It's just a dream."  
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO ."  
"Peter, go get Professor McGonagall."  
"I'm sort of unnerved about it, though. I mean, it doesn't sound like a family picnic, does it? Rallies of Dark Magic? Knights of Walpurgis? Secret meetings with all the purebloods? If only I could remember the name of the man that's doing all of it . he goes by some weird foreign nickname . I know his real name, though. Riddle. Tom Riddle."  
"The Potters have declined to answer their calling into the rally. Unlike us, they do not support the cause. Therefore, I forbid you to ever talk to this child again. And anymore of your little friends."  
"Now listen to me, both of you. I don't care what he is! I don't care what he did! I know Remus, and Remus is my friend. And that's the way it's gonna stay. If either one of you have a problem with that, you can leave now. There's the Cloak, but I'm going to stay here with him and be here when he turns back. You guys make your own decisions."  
"I know who your boggart was. And I don't know how you found out ."  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. We both know. And I am warning you not to tell anyone. If I get wind that you've been poking around next to that ."  
"I really don't know what you mean, sir. It was a picture from my first year text book. You can look it up for yourself if you'd like. Page two thirteen."  
"Why do you fear werewolves?"  
"What are you doing?"  
"Something that I should have done a long time ago. I'm not doing it anymore! I hate you! I hate you all!"  
Sirius fell into darkness again, and was now set back at Grimmauld Place for the last scene. His mother screaming at him, and him packing his suitcase. His father threatening him, he himself sticking his wand between his father's eyes . . . and running down the stairs.  
Far away from that hell on Earth.  
He opened the door, and was surprised to be faced with a new setting. One of his own flat . . . except Voldemort was there, leaning over him, taking out his wand . . .  
"Imperio!" the Dark Lord sneered, and Sirius opened his mouth.  
He opened his mouth to tell him. He said the address . . . the street number, the house . . . everything.  
And then he saw Voldemort walk there, to that house, and break down the door, and . . . .  
"NO!" Sirius howled, and Lily jumped back, her wand falling on the wooden floor. She gasped as Sirius jolted himself out of the spell, and jumped back into the headboard of the bed. He was close to tears as he looked at his hands, and then at Lily, and at James. They were alive. Everything was still all right.  
"Are you okay, mate?" James asked, and Sirius didn't respond. He just stared at Lily, and Lily stared back, confused.  
"Sirius? Are you okay?" James said, urgency now in his voice. He hopped up from his seat, and rushed to the side of the bed to pat his friend on the back. Sirius jumped again, and then shook his head.  
"This is wrong," he said, to no one in particular, "No, he'll know it's me."  
"What are you talking about?" James asked.  
"Voldemort. He'll know it's me. I'm your best friend, James. He'll know you would pick me. It's all part of his plan. He's going to find me, and . . ."  
"Sirius, the spell's almost done . . ."  
"I can't do it, James!" Sirius tried to explain to him, pleading with his eyes, "I would do it if I could, but I can't! I won't let myself! I can't trust myself to not slip up . . .to not fall right where he wants me to."  
"Sirius! I trust you! We all trust you! I need you to do this for me."  
"Get a new Secret Keeper," he said, "Send an owl to Peter. Dag is fast. He'll make it in time . . . Wormtail's just a few blocks away . . ."  
"Peter?" James exclaimed, "Why Peter? No, Sirius. No. We're running out of time. Just try to relax . . ."  
"Exactly! We're running out of time!" Sirius shouted over his friend, "We're all running out of time! Send Dag to him! He's the only person we can trust now, James!"  
"We can trust you!"  
"No you can't!"  
"Sirius, please! Please do this for me! Please!" James tried to shove his friend back into place, but Sirius just shoved him back.  
"I can't, James!"  
"Please!"  
"I - CAN'T - JAMES!" Sirius shouted, and James and Lily grew silent. Sirius took this opportunity to bolt out of the door and into the living room. He saw Dag sitting in his cage next to Harry, and he grabbed him.  
James followed him out of the room, and grabbed his arm. He forced him to turn to look at him, and then grabbed him by the shoulders.  
"Why are you doing this, Padfoot?" he ordered, "Why? We had agreed on this . . ."  
"Send for Peter," Sirius said, determined, shoving Dag into his owner's arms, "Send for him. Now."  
"I can't trust him," James said, "He could just as easily be the spy . . ."  
"For Merlin's sake, James!" Sirius shouted, "He's Peter Pettigrew! He's scared of his own reflection! Why would he go to that Side?"  
"Why would he keep a Secret?"  
"Because he'd be scared to let us down," Sirius said, "It works both ways. I know that little rat. Voldemort will never suspect him. No one would. We don't tell anyone that anything's changed. As far as anyone's concerned, I'm still the Secret Keeper. It's just another precaution. Please. You have to trust me. If you truly do, you'll send for him."  
Dag, old and tired Dag, hooted from his cage, and James sighed, defeated. He took the old owl, and then nodded slowly.  
"You were always right," he said, "Always got me out of trouble. And I trust you."  
Sirius returned his nod, and patted him on the shoulder, "Good. Now get him here. We're running out of time."  
With that, Sirius returned to the bedroom to wait with Lily. Lily hadn't moved from her position on the bed, and she looked haunted. Sirius sighed, ran his fingers through his black hair, and took a seat on the sill where James had been sitting. Lily looked at him, and gave a sad smile.  
"I trust you now," she said.  
Sirius looked at her, and nodded, "Good."  
"No," she said, "I trust you. You have to go through with it. We don't know about Peter . . . He could be the traitor as easily as Remus . . ."  
"No, he couldn't," Sirius said, "There's too much on Remus's side."  
"Sirius . . ."  
"You said you trusted me, right?" he interrupted her.  
Lily slowly nodded, and said, "Yes."  
"Then trust me on this, and choose Peter."  
The door opened, and then shut. Both of them looked to the bedroom entrance while James ran to the door, and greeted someone.  
"Wormtail, good, you were home," he said in a rushed voice, "We need your help."  
"What's going on?" Peter's high squeaky voice sounded.  
Both of the boys hurried into the room, Peter still wearing his coat. Sirius grabbed him, and set him down on the bed.  
"You remember how James and Lily agreed on me for Secret Keeper?" he started.  
Peter nodded, eyes almost popping out of his skull. He could feel the tension through the room, and it almost choked him to death.  
"We're changing it," Sirius continued, "Now it's you, Wormtail. You're going to be the Secret Keeper."  
Peter's jaw dropped, and James could see a small twisted smile peeking from underneath his pale skin.  
"You'd trust me with that, would you?"  
"Yes," Sirius said, "Yes we would. Right, James?"  
James nodded, and came to stand next to his best friend, "Peter, I've known you for a long time. And whenever I had a problem that I needed to tell you about, you never told anyone. You've kept all of my secrets in the past. So this is just another one of those problems. And I know that you'd die before letting Voldemort know where we were."  
"But . . ." the smile faded away, "I . . . I . . ."  
"Peter, you really don't have a choice," Lily said, "We have a short amount of time. We have to get going."  
"I can't!" Peter said, all willpower taking over, "I can't do that to you. I can't be a part of this. I can't . . ."  
"You have to!" Sirius barked.  
"I can't, Sirius!" Peter said, swallowing hard, "You don't understand! I can't!"  
"That's all you ever say! You can't, you can't!" Sirius said, shouting now, "Your friends are in trouble! It's time to be a hero, Peter! It's time to help your side in the war and finish it off! As soon as James and Lily and Harry are hidden, we have a better chance of survival! For the end of the war!"  
"You want to see the end of the war, don't you?" James prodded.  
Peter hesitated at that one question, as if taking it to heart. He clutched his hands together, wringing them together quickly. His complexion was one of a ghost, and his beady little eyes looked to the floorboards.  
"Yes," he said quietly, "Very much so."  
  
Sirius was seated at the sill with James, watching Lily start the fourth spell. The first three had been rather painful for Peter, and now he was shaking from both nerves and the icy heat that flew through his veins and heart. Now he was jolting on the bed, tears running down his cheeks, as he watched the scenes of the past and future. He shook his head vigorously, as if denying something. Sirius knew that both he and James were in many of those memories that he was watching being played out.  
Finally, the jolting stopped, and Lily let go of Peter's hand for one moment as she flipped the page to begin the fifth and final spell. She took a hold of his wrist, and with a shaky voice, began the incantation.  
"Cecerete Ceep-ere. Cecerete Ceep-ere."  
Peter now stood still, his eyes wide open, yet not being able to see any of his surroundings. He was petrified, staring right in front of him as if he were in a sort of trance. Sirius didn't know if he was truly in a trance, or just scared out of his little mind.  
Probably the latter.  
"Cecerete Ceep-ere. The secret of James Potter and Harry Potter and Lily Potter is restricted to the mind of Peter Pettigrew," she said, and Sirius nodded. Yes. Yes, it was working, "Cecerete Ceep-ere. The following people will be found at the following address. Cecerete Ceep-ere. James Potter and Harry Potter and Lily Potter will be found at Number 5 Godric's Hollow. Cecerete Ceep-ere. Cecerete-Ceep-ere."  
And with a sound like a thundercloud, the room seemed to explode as a bright wave of light flew from Sirius's body, and he collapsed on the window's frame. James grabbed him, and helped him back up to a sitting position. The light flew above all of their heads, spiraling on the ceiling. And just as soon as that one had come, a thousand more flew from the outside, seeping through the walls and cracks and windows and chimney pipe. With a sound that none of them had ever heard before, and could not be described, the lights flew to the top of the room to join Sirius's, and began whirling together in a bright array of color and explosions. A mighty wind swept into the room, and Lily shielded her eyes as the light grew brighter and brighter.  
Peter now looked up to the ceiling, and it seemed as if he was going to die right there on the spot. His mouth hung open and he couldn't move.  
The lights turned to one, and began to make a downward spiral towards Peter who sat there on the bed. A funnel cloud appeared, running right into the mouth of Wormtail himself. The man choked as the light threw itself down his throat, and began to radiate his body. Peter glowed for a moment in the dark of the room, before the sound ended, and the blackness regained control of the small space. Peter lay there for a moment as James, Lily, and Sirius stared at him in amazement.  
And then he collapsed on the bed, his eyes closed and his face chalk white.  
"Peter!" Lily cried, and leaned over to try to shake him.  
"What happened?" she asked as Sirius and James stepped closer to take a look at him. Sirius shrugged, and then gave out a laugh.  
"The dolt fainted."  
  
The day had begun to seep through the night sky to reveal the city's beautiful skyline. Lily and James were supposed to have been in their new house by now, but there had been delays. Lily checked on her son on the couch as she brought in the last of the boxes to the living room where they were all going to Apparated to the new location. James stacked them on top of each other, while Lily did a quick check of their room to see if they had forgotten anything.  
Peter was still white, and sitting on the couch next to the sleeping Harry. He couldn't look at the boy. He was still afraid of him.  
He had to protect him. James watched the two of them from the other side of the room. Harry's foot kicked out in his sleep, and Peter jumped.  
"Peter?" James started, and Peter didn't look at him. His hankerchief was in his hand, and he religiously dabbed as his face with it, trying to shake off the spell's feeling of doom.  
"Peter, I want to thank you," James said, coming closer, "I know that you're a very brave man, Peter. And I trust you. Thank you for this. I know that when Harry gets older, he'll consider you a closer uncle than before. You saved his life, Wormtail."  
"What have I done," Peter whispered, more to himself than James.  
"You've just become a hero, Wormtail," James said, touching his arm, "You just saved the day."  
A shuffling of a chair came from Sirius's room, and James turned to look at the darkened doorway.  
"Just a minute," he said to Peter, and crossed the room to peer into the darkness.  
Sirius was sitting on his bed, looking out his window, and humming a tune to himself. It was that song from Remus's music box. James had almost forgotten how it went.  
Sirius looked old. Ancient, even. He was only twenty one, and still his entire posture was one of a worn and beaten fossil. He pushed his longer hair out of his face, and sat without saying a word. James felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach, and he now realized how hard this night was for his brother.  
How hard it was for himself.  
"Sirius?" he asked, and Sirius jumped. He turned around to look at James, but he didn't stand.  
"Oh, hey, James," he said, "How are you holding up."  
"The best I can," James replied, and walked to the bed to take a seat next to Sirius, "And you?"  
"Same here," he said, and then looked back to the window, "Same here."  
"Lily's doing a last minute check, and then we're going to be going," James informed him, "I don't know when we'll be back, but I hope soon."  
"What's tomorrow?"  
"What?" James asked.  
"What's tomorrow? What day of the week?" Sirius asked. James, taken aback by this random question, shrugged, and answered, "I don't know. Sunday."  
"Then I guess I'll be going to church in a few hours," Sirius said.  
James looked at his best friend, and gave out a laugh, "You don't go to church. You haven't since Harry was born."  
"Yeah, I know," Sirius said, smiling a saddened smile, "But I think I should go tomorrow."  
James nodded, and then put his arm around Sirius. They were quiet for a moment, and then James reached into his pocket for something.  
"I almost forgot," he said, and Sirius looked to the crumpled and torn piece of parchment that his friend now held in his hand. It had jumbled letters on it, and it was only a small slip of one line of writing. But Sirius couldn't read it.  
"If anything goes wrong," James said, handing the paper to him, "You'll be able to read this. I wrote it out myself. It says where we are. But you'll only be able to read it if the secret gets out. You understand?"  
"Yeah," Sirius said, taking the parchment, "But you'll be fine. Peter will never . . ."  
"I know," he said, "But just in case. I want you to know where we are."  
Sirius nodded, and stuffed the parchment in his pocket, "I understand."  
"Good," James said, and then gave out a deep breath, "Now what to say now? We were never really good at this goodbye thing, were we?"  
"No, we weren't," Sirius said, not moving.  
"So what should we say?"  
"Goodbye, I guess," he shrugged, and James laughed.  
"Yeah."  
The two boys sat there for another moment, not looking at each other, before Sirius spoke up.  
"When you three get back, I'm going to help you buy a house. A new one."  
"What," James snorted sarcastically, "You don't like us living out of your flat?"  
"Harry keeps me up at night," he said, and they both laughed.  
Soon, their laughs turned into small chuckles, and then disappeared. Then Sirius grabbed James and held him close to him like a father holding a son. James returned the embrace just as hard, and they sat there, trying not to cry on each other's cloaks. James hit Sirius on the back, and Sirius squeezed him even tighter.  
"Hey, someone messes with one of us, he messes with all of us," Sirius said, through the oncoming tears, and James nodded.  
"Yeah, Padfoot," he said, his own tears appearing, "That's how it is. That's how it's always been."  
"Look at you two," Lily said, now leaning up against the doorway and smiling sadly, "It isn't like we're going away forever."  
The boys, somewhat embarrassed, let go of each other, and stood to face her. Sirius tried to hide his tears by wiping his sleeve across his face.  
"It's dusty in here," he commented, rubbing his eyes, "It keeps bothering me and my eyes."  
"Yeah," James agreed, "You should clean once in a while."  
Lily held out her hand for her husband, and James took it. The three of them walked into the living room, and to where all of their luggage was piled ontop of each other. Sirius went to the side of the couch, and looked down upon Harry, sleeping peacefully next to Peter. He felt a lump appear at the back of his throat.  
"So Harry," he said, only talking to the baby. He didn't care if anyone else could hear him or not, "You're the boy who's gonna change our world."  
Lily and James looked to him, and stopped in their tracks. Peter closed his eyes, maybe out of pure fear.  
"You're a lucky kid, you know that?" Sirius said, kneeling down to look into the sleeping boy's face, "You've got parents that would sacrifice for you. You've got friends that would die for you. And that's gonna make you strong, Harry. You're gonna be the bravest, the smartest, and the greatest little boy the world has ever seen. You're gonna be in history books, and part of bedtime stories. And everyone will know your name. You've got a future ahead of you, because of those two over there. You're lucky, kid. Real lucky."  
Lily took James's hand, and James looked to her. She was smiling at Sirius, but squeezing his fingers tightly. They were still in love. After everything that had happened, she loved him. He knew that now.  
"And I'm always gonna help you, Harry," Sirius said, "When you get back, I'm taking you out to the park. And I'm gonna put you on the swings, and I'll push you. And no matter how high you go, no matter how much power you have, or how fast you fall back to the ground, you'll always know that I'll be there behind you, ready to push you back up into the sky. That's what your father did for me, Harry. And that's what I'll do for you."  
Then he took Harry in his arms, and buried his face in the boy's black hair. Getting to his feet, he handed him to his mother, and took his seat on the couch. It was time for the Potters to leave.  
James waved goodbye to his two friends of life, and Lily held her baby tight against her chest. Dumbledore had prepared a special liscense for them to haul everything there in one trip, including Harry. Everything was set. Now the only thing left was for James to raise his wand and leave.  
And he did. Slowly his hand rose, and he shut his eyes. The last look that Sirius got of his friend was of him smiling, content. He had done the right thing.  
And in the blink of an eye, all of the boxes and all of the people were gone. It was so fast that Sirius might have thought it to be a dream. But alas, Peter still sat next to him, not saying a word.  
"Show's over, Wormtail," Sirius said, getting up. Peter didn't move, and Sirius sighed. He was snap out of it sometime.  
He headed back into his bedroom as the sun rose on a new day. He shut the doors, and left Wormtail by himself.  
Sirius had to get ready for church. 


	110. Chapter 109: Godric's Hollow

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
October 30th, 1981.  
A week had passed. A week of seclusion, of Muggles, and of hope for the Order. The small house in which Peter Pettigrew was residing wasn't much to look at. It somewhat resembled Remus's home, with two rooms: the kitchen, and the living room/bedroom. The furniture was used, and still it was new. Yet the couch didn't match the chair, and the chair didn't match the wallpaper. It was a topsy turvy design that covered the cushions, and Peter hated the lines and dots. They looked like so many different things.  
It gave him a headache.  
He was tired. He had been out all night, visiting the Potters at their abode. He wore long sleeves today because the green paint still wouldn't come off.  
He hadn't been able to leave his home for long periods of time, and he hadn't been to an Order meeting in what seemed like forever. But Sirius was due in for a visit this day, and right as he woke on this fall morning, he could hear someone making their way up the walk and to his front door.  
"Wormtail! I'm here!" Sirius said, kicking it open and walking into the living room. Peter jumped as he saw that Sirius had bags of groceries in his hands.  
"Thank you, Sirius," he said, and Sirius nodded, continuing into the kitchen.  
Sirius didn't speak very much these days. That glint in his eye had been replaced by another sort of look. A look of anxiety.  
"What are these?" Sirius said, jumping out of the kitchen and holding up a ticket.  
"Tickets for King's Cross," Peter said, "Going to the country. Always wanted to go to the country."  
"They're for the morning of November 1st," Sirius said, looking at the date, "Doesn't look like you'll be making it."  
"No," Peter said, "I was planning a trip, but . . . I don't think . . ."  
"Heard anything from James?" Sirius interrupted, ducking back into the kitchen.  
"Yes," Peter said, a little quieter. If only they would listen to him for once in their stupid lives. Both of them were so arrogant . . . so . . .  
"Are you holding up?" Peter asked, yawning and putting one foot out of his bed.  
"Yeah," Sirius's voice came from the other room, "As well as I can."  
Peter trudged across the room and into the kitchen. He rumpled his hair, and tried to smile. It was important to look normal. To look positive.  
For Sirius, being positive was something that got him through his week. They were fine. Wherever they were, they were fine.  
He thought he had heard them last night, before he had drifted off to sleep. James running in the door, laughing, saying that the war was over.  
It had just been a group of young boys down the corridor, making their way to their apartment.  
Sirius set the bags down on the counter, and stuffed his hands into his pocket. He took out the parchment, and checked it again.  
edPamoesotetlrandriGHritfraoHrurPeaJ'bcindlLsolywePovatrteraoetntm  
Still the jumbled letters. He still couldn't read it.  
Good.  
Everything was okay.  
"You sure you're all right?" Peter said as Sirius stuffed the parchment into his pocket.  
"Yes," he said, "I'm fine."  
Peter nodded, and went to unpacking the groceries. Sirius looked to Peter, and smiled. Peter had calmed down a good amount since the night of the charm, and even if he had had his fits in which he swore to Sirius that he wouldn't make it out of this alive, that James was a goner, that he couldn't keep the secret, that there's no possible way that everything could turn out all right, that he was a coward . . . he had grown into a well rounded and encouraging force. Sadly, Sirius couldn't say the same about himself.  
"Peter?" he said, and Peter looked to him.  
"Yes?"  
"I'm their best friend, you know," he said, "And . . . I know that you're the one with the secret, but . . . it isn't like I'll tell anyone. It's just for my knowledge. You think that you could maybe . . . . just tell me . . ."  
"I can't," Peter said, his eyes growing wide again, "I can't do that, Sirius. I can't tell anyone."  
"I've been living a week not knowing where they are," Sirius argued, "Do you know what that's like? Not knowing how your best friend is doing? I can't send owls to him, I can't visit him . . . hell, I don't even know where to go!"  
"That's how it's supposed to be," Peter said, and threw the grocery bags under the counter, "That's how it's supposed to work."  
"But I need to know," he said, coming closer, "I need to know they're all right."  
"I went to visit them last night," Peter said, and then shrugged, "They were perfectly fine. Harry's happy, and Lily's applying for a Muggle job. James . . ."  
"Yeah? What about James?" Sirius pressed him on, "What about him? Tell me!"  
"Well," Peter said, "He's . . . happy, too."  
Sirius stopped.  
"They're thinking of staying there," Peter continued, "Even after the war. They like it there."  
"In that Muggle town?" Sirius barked, "Why in God's name would James want to do a thing like that?"  
Peter shrugged, "I don't know."  
"Did he give you any messages to give to me?" he asked, hurriedly, "Did he tell you anything?"  
"Not that I can recall," Peter said, "They seem perfectly fine. Actually, they said nothing about you."  
Sirius narrowed his eyes, dangerously. Here he had been worried about them, killing himself over them, trying to figure out how he could bail them out somehow and bring them home . . . and they wanted to stay there? They wanted to live there in that little town, even when it was time to come home?  
What, did he not mean anything to them?  
"Just tell me where they are," Sirius demanded. Peter shook his head, and then laughed.  
"This is a test, isn't it? This is some sort of a test," he said, "You want me to say no, so you'll know that I wouldn't tell anyone!"  
"No, Peter," Sirius said, grabbing him by the collar, "I want you to tell me. Now."  
"I can't," Peter said, all of a sudden frightened, "Please don't do this."  
Sirius looked into that rat's eyes, and then his own widened. He had seen a glimpse of something. A glimpse of something that he had never noticed before.  
Sirius set the man down on the floor, and then grabbed his cloak, walked to the door, and walked out.  
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and then was gone.  
Peter Pettigrew was selfish.  
He had seen that in that man's eyes.  
  
The Order had gathered again, this time at Hogwarts itself. They sat in the Great Hall, seated at the Ravenclaw table. Their numbers were dwindling now, and all he could do was listen to Dumbledore's words through the meeting. He couldn't speak, couldn't smile . . . there was nothing to smile about.  
Emmeline. Sturgis. Professor McGonagall. Hagrid. Figg. Kingsley. Mad- Eye. And himself. All headed by Dumbledore. This was all that was left.  
Caradoc had never been found. Edgar was dead. Dorcas had been killed by Voldemort. Gideon and Fabian had died as heroes. Frank and Alice were back in hiding. James and Lily were in hiding. Sirius was their Secret Keeper, and only Dumbledore knew where he was placed. He didn't know where Peter was.  
Only nine were left. Only nine members could sit around this table and speak of matters such as these. The students had all been in class when they had arrived, and Remus hadn't seen any faces that he recognized in the student body, but he had seen a few of his teachers. Professor Hall, his old Potions master, looked quite ill when they exchanged greetings. She had lost weight, and seemed to be pale and very short tempered. All of her Kneazles had died, it sounded like.  
He had made his way to the Gryffindor Tower, only to be stopped by the Fat Lady. He had snuck away from the group to see how his old room looked now. Yet he had been forgotten by the old portrait, and he had to return to the crowd of gathering members in the Great Hall.  
So now they sat, listening to Dumbledore speak of the war and things, and Remus couldn't concentrate. He kept seeing himself sitting at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his friends. They were all so young.  
His blond hair fell in his small, skinny face as he fumbled with his owl mail. Sirius, taller than the rest of them and filled with arrogance, jumped across the table and grabbed the letter from his hands. Peter squealed, and fell out of his chair as Sirius lunged at him and Remus. And James . . .  
James laughed along with them.  
"Come on, Remus," James said, as Sirius opened the letter, "Let's see what you've got there."  
"It's probably from my mum," Remus said, quietly. Quieter than his tone nowadays. Had he always been that scared?  
"Dear Son," Sirius laughed, "Oh, here we go, Potter. They called him 'son.' How touching."  
"Geroff," Remus said, reaching for the letter again. But Sirius wouldn't let him have it.  
"We're so proud of you. In whatever you do, know that the ones you love will always be with you."  
Remus of that past day blushed, and Remus of this day smiled sadly to himself.  
Then I'm alone, he thought to himself now, I'm all alone.  
"Well, isn't that sweet," Sirius said, giving the letter back to Remus. Remus could tell he was jealous. Sirius always was when it came to family matters. Remus didn't really know the situation with his friend at home, but he had a good idea. James recognized this, too, and patted his friend on the back.  
"Going back to my place this summer, right?" he asked, and Sirius nodded.  
James always did the right thing. No matter how long it took him, he always did the right thing.  
Remus blinked as Emmeline stood from her spot next to him. But he didn't stop looking at that boy that he used to be.  
Blond hair. Skinny wrists. Big eyes that looked out to the world, fearing for his life. How long would he live? Would he graduate? If he did, would he get a job? Was there still hope for him?  
He remembered being that little boy. How close he was to being killed by the wolf. How the wolf had grown inside of him, began speaking to him, began slowly killing him from the inside out. Sirius and James and Peter hadn't seen that. That entire time that they asked what was wrong, how they could help, how they could stop him from being so down . . . they had had no idea.  
The wolf had almost killed him one of those nights that they hadn't come to help him. The wolf had showed him his future, and then had slammed him into a wooden chair, screaming in his ear, "JE NE MOURRAI PAS, REMUS! THAT'S RIGHT, ISN'T IT? JE NE MOURRAI PAS!"  
And then the wolf wouldn't stop whispering to him. And then the wolf started coming in the nightmares, trying to take him over while he slept. It was a curse now. A curse that none of them could understand.  
So he hadn't told them.  
And now they were all in hiding, James mad at him. Sirius . . . Sirius had looked at him with those hollowed eyes the night of the Headquarters attack.  
He continued staring at that boy, seated next to Peter, smiling at his friends and tucking the letter in his satchel. That boy was not who he was. He had grown up.  
He had gotten wiser.  
Friends were nothing. Friends couldn't help you. Even if they started to, even if you thought they would . . . they would always turn their back on you. Those boys were not unlike everyone else he had met. He should have listened to June.  
He should have listened to June.  
"Remus, may I speak with you in private?"  
Remus blinked again, and the four boys vanished. He realized now that the table was empty, except for himself and Dumbledore. Everyone had left.  
"Of course," was all he could say, and Dumbledore nodded and took a seat across from him.  
"I have received word from Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, "And all is well."  
"Did he go into hiding?" Remus asked.  
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "Arabella Figg was to be his Secret Keeper, but supposedly, they have decided to use your friend Peter instead. Only he knows where Sirius is now."  
"Do you know where Peter is?"  
"I do not care to know," Dumbledore said, "Voldemort has been known to go into a person's mind when he can. I do not want to know, for his sake."  
"And have you heard from the Potters?" Remus asked.  
"No," Dumbledore said, "But you can be rest assured, they are safe. This is the last stretch, Mr. Lupin. Soon, the war will end and all will return from where they are hidden."  
Remus nodded, and Dumbledore placed his hand on the young man's.  
"I, myself, would have chosen you over Mr. Black," he said, and Remus looked into the eyes of the Headmaster. They were smiling from behind the half moon glasses. Remus smiled himself, and Dumbledore patted his hand.  
"I shall see you in a week's time, Mr. Lupin."  
And then Dumbledore left, through the great oak doors. Leaving Remus to the ghosts of the past, and the hopes of the future.  
  
The sun was falling on an ordinary street in an ordinary town. Mr. Soaps had pulled into his driveway, and his only son, Jeremy, came to greet him after taking a break from his football game. He had just scored a goal in the net, and now he hugged his father with open arms.  
Mrs. Soaps emerged from the front door, a kitchen mitt placed over her right hand. She waved to her husband. Her husband, however, did not look at her. He was somewhat preoccupied with a figure across the street, making her way down the sidewalk and to the house at the end of the long stretch of houses.  
She was a red head. Pretty. Young.  
And then as fast as he had caught a glimpse of her, he looked back to his son and raised him high in the air. Little did he know that the red head was now looking at him and his family.  
Lily Potter had lived on this street for only a week, and she already felt as if she was back at home. Her Muggle ways were returning, and she had gone today to buy normal looking clothes for her husband and son. They were inside, of course, playing some infant game to pass the time.  
They had all accepted that this was their life now. Or at least until the war was finished. Yet she could tell that James wanted to get out, and wanted to see his friends again. It had just been yesterday that Peter had knocked on the back door, his wand out, and had visited with them for a while.  
James had told him to tell Sirius to keep his chin up and to keep thinking of them, and Peter had agreed to tell Sirius this. The two men had talked about a few things, and had shared a few laughs. It had meant the world for James to see a familiar face.  
She knew that the separation from them was killing her husband slowly. It hadn't occurred to him that he wouldn't be able to speak to Sirius for days, maybe even years. But he had been happier. Just last night, she had bought a record player from the store, and had brought it home with a record of an older singer. She had showed him how it worked, and as the first song began to play, he took her in his arms and they danced across the living room.  
They were a family again.  
Lily now was at her front door, and she walked inside to the laughter of Harry. James was chasing him around the living room. He looked like a Muggle, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Harry was dressed in a cute little outfit she had found at a shop down the road, next to the record store. She had gotten a job as a secretary for a Muggle office, and now they were making an income that would support them until the war was over. James was more at risk at attracting attention. She had grown up with Muggles, she knew how to blend in with them. James knew nothing of these matters, and he really didn't want to know of them.  
"Lily! You're home!" James laughed, collapsing on the floor. Harry fell ontop of his father, and James let out a howl, "Oh! You're getting to be a big boy, Harry!"  
Lily laughed, and grabbed Harry from him, "Come here. Let's get you in the bath."  
"How was work?" James asked, getting up from the carpet. Lily shrugged, and then started up the stairs to the second floor.  
"It was what my dad always told me I'd end up doing," she said, "Working."  
"But what exactly are you going to do there?" he asked, Lily and Harry entering the bathroom, "Just jot down their notes?"  
"Different things," Lily said, "Just don't worry about it. I've got it under control."  
"Ma! Ma! Ma!" Harry laughed as Lily lifted his shirt off and set it on the sink. James laughed again, and then waved to Harry.  
"Yeah, that's your mum," James said, "Always ambitious."  
  
"So what do you call this thing again?" he asked, taking the black rectangle from Lily's hand. He pressed a button, and the picture on the telly changed.  
"It's a remote, James," Lily said, "For the television."  
"Sirius had one of these!" James recalled, and pressed another button, "I know how to work this," he said as Lily reached over to retrieve the rectangle, "I'm not a complete dunderhead."  
"Give it back, James," Lily said, and James swatted her hand away.  
"No," James said, and Lily sighed, "James!"  
"No. Look, this is very interesting. It's a bunch of Muggles complaining about life in general. Talking in monotone voices . . ."  
"That's the news, James."  
"Well, imagine that. The news."  
"Give me the remote, James," Lily demanded.  
"Look at you," James said, turning his head toward her. Lily sighed.  
"What."  
"Your left eye," he laughed, "It's twitching again. Just like Sirius said."  
Lily lunged at James, and he toppled out of his chair onto the ground. Lily fell ontop of him, and she grabbed for the remote. James laughed, and held it out of her reach. Lily stretched for it, but James took his other hand and started for her underarm.  
"James!" she laughed as he tickled her. She collapsed in his arms, and he bent his head to kiss her. She stopped laughing, and returned his kiss. Slowly, he set the remote in her arms, and held her with both hands. But she didn't notice that she had won the fight.  
James loved her.  
He had stopped now, and she lay on top of him, looking confused.  
"James? Are you all right?"  
James smiled, and nodded, "Now I am."  
"You're acting odd, James," she said, tickling him back, and he gave out a short laugh.  
"When didn't I ever?" he asked, and then took her in his arms, standing to his feet.  
"Do you remember how we met?" he asked her as he carried her up the stairs and to their room.  
"Why," she screamed with excitement, and James shrugged.  
"Oh, hello," he mocked her in a little girl's voice, "Can I ride on your boat?"  
"James!" she said as James started to rock her back and forth.  
"I wonder if there's a giant squid in the lake, James!" his voice went low, like Sirius's, "I don't know, Sirius," in his own voice, "Maybe we should find out!"  
And he threw Lily on the bed with a yelp. She bounced, and then laughed out loud. James stood above her, looking down on this perfect person he had chosen to love.  
Lily Evans. He was the luckiest man alive.  
He just stared at her, and she stopped laughing.  
"James?" she asked, unsure of what he was thinking, "Are you sure you're all right?"  
She was alive. They were both alive.  
He had chosen her over everything else.  
  
"Was I a bad person?"  
They lay in their bed. It was dark in the room, and only the window showed the light of the outside streetlamp pouring in through their window. James had been talking all night, and Lily had just listened patiently for him to ask her questions and answer with a "yes" or a "no."  
But she hadn't expected this question to come.  
"What?" she asked, turning over to face him.  
"Was I a bad person," he asked again, his face now grave. All laughter was gone.  
Lily stroked his cheek with her soft hand, and smiled, "No one's perfect, James."  
"But I keep thinking about what I said to Remus," James said, "And not just the last time, but . . . but ever since we started in the Order. And I can't help but somewhat blame myself for what he did. I mean, if he had known that I was there for him . . . maybe he wouldn't have turned."  
"It isn't your fault," Lily assured him, "Remus listens to himself. He had reasons for turning that didn't concern you."  
"How can you be so sure?"  
"I can't," Lily said truthfully.  
James touched Lily's cool face, and then took a stroke of her red hair in his hands. He looked deep into her eyes. Her peaceful, green eyes.  
"I love you," he said, the words slipping from his mouth.  
Lily smiled, and nodded, "I know."  
"I don't deserve you," he admitted, and Lily laughed. Her laugh was so beautiful. So perfect and pure. So innocent.  
"James . . ."  
"No," he said, running his hand through her hair, "I don't deserve you. I've . . . I have been . . . not very supportive of you. And I'm sorry."  
"Is that your apology?" Lily said, mockingly.  
James looked deeper into her eyes. Her perfect eyes.  
"You're still here," he said quietly, and Lily's face fell. The words were haunting to her. His expression was one of an amazed man, looking upon a miracle greater than himself. It scared her.  
"Of course I'm still here," Lily said, stroking his cheek. His eyes were glassy, and he blinked to try to hide his feelings.  
"Why did you marry me?" he said, "Why did you say yes to me? I'm not a good man, Lily. You could have found someone better. Someone who wouldn't have taken you for granted."  
"You are James Potter," Lily said, taking his hand and squeezing it, "I never loved anyone else. I never could. You are my life, James. You gave me Harry. You gave me something to fight for."  
James buried his face in Lily's hair, and Lily embraced him.  
"I will never leave you, James," she whispered, "I promise. I will never leave you."  
"How can you be so sure?" he said.  
"Don't you believe in fate?"  
"What?"  
"Fate," Lily said, almost silent, "Like . . . our lives are already planned out before they begin. That you will die a certain time, at a certain place. That you're destined to meet a certain person. And fall in love with them."  
James never answered. If fate had brought them together, then so be it. Fate existed.  
And so they lay there, in the silence of the small Muggle street, in their new beds and new sheets, speaking no more of destiny and futures. And the last dwindling light of their last day fell, into the last night and the last moon. And they dreamed their last dreams, grateful to the very thing that would kill them.  
Fate. 


	111. Chapter 110: Halloween, 1981

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Disclaimer: The following scenes are composed from Warner Bros.'s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone (film), and the words of J.K. Rowling as found in her Harry Potter series. All of the action, scenery, etc. was taken from one of these sources or a source pertaining to one of these sources. Nothing belongs to "Mordred" or anyone other than J.K. Rowling or her associates and are protected by their copyrights. "Mordred" wishes not to make a profit from this story or anything else, and is only a fanfiction writer.)  
  
(Note about inconsistencies with the dialogue: Due to reasons, the dialogue is not the same as it was in the books. If anything is recognizable, it does not belong to me, but to Rowling herself and her associates and it is protected by copyrights.)  
  
The day was cold. The trees in the backyard blew with the growing wind, and the leaves scattered the floor of the earth, making the branches bare. The morning had risen on another early hour, and James sat in the back room, looking out to the forest that covered the backyards of the street. He stared into the thick branches, trying to look past their protective shields and see the outside.  
Sirius.  
What was he doing?  
Peter was to return that next day. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would give Peter a letter, telling Sirius that he thought of him and that he was all right.  
What would his letter say.  
Dear Sirius. Lily has a job. Harry is happy. And I want to come home.  
  
He did. He yearned for his old bed, and to see a familiar face that wasn't Lily's or Harry's. He loved his family, but his mind wanted to even see Remus. Someone other than the things he had associated with this house.  
Yet, he was happy. Finally, in the longest time, he was happy.  
Harry would live.  
There was a chance.  
"James?"  
James turned to see Lily in her nightrobe, leaning up against the doorway of the back room. This room had served the purpose of a storage place. It also was connected to the stairs that led to the second floor. There were two staircases leading up to the bedrooms: the one in the front of the house, and the one leading out the back door. This was taken as an extra precaution. It was easier to escape into the woods out the back than to fight your way out the front.  
But no sign of an attack had come. Remus was the spy. Peter was protected by Sirius. Everything was fine. They had cheated death once again.  
The one worry that he now had was his friends. What if they all died, defending his family? What if he returned, and Sirius and Peter were dead? How could he live with himself, knowing that he had done nothing but sit here and play patty cake with his infant son?  
"James, are you okay?" she asked, and James nodded.  
"I was just thinking," he said, "I've been doing a lot of that lately."  
"Yeah, I think we all have," she said, and then the routine cries from upstairs began.  
"Well, another day in paradise, hey?" she said, starting up the stairs. James nodded. She hadn't asked him why he had come to the back room.  
He had remembered a contract that he and the boys had written when they were back at school. He had wanted to find it. But he couldn't remember who took it home with them. He was sure that it had been him, but maybe Sirius had snatched it up.  
Oh, if only Sirius hadn't lost the map.  
No, there was nothing in the storage room except for some donated toys from Alice to Harry, old Muggle kitchen things, and some more assorted Muggle junk for Lily from her parent's estate. Nothing for James.  
He sat down on the fold down chair, and it squeaked on the wooden floor. It was a small room, smaller than any other room in the house. Harry's nursery alone covered two windows, and included a fireplace. James had set Floo Powder next to the hearth, just in case they needed a third escape route. It was located right above him, and he could hear Lily walking across the floor to retrieve Harry out of his crib. He still wouldn't sleep in a bed.  
"He's still young," James said, mussing his hair, "He doesn't even know anything's wrong. The whole damn world is bending over backwards to get to him, and he's oblivious."  
It seemed the only person who didn't know about Harry was Harry. But he knew this wasn't true. The world didn't know of the prophecy. Hardly anyone did. Yes, there had been the rumors, but they had faded away. Now they were truly alone.  
'Meow'  
James looked up and out of the small window. Outside, in the backyard, was a black cat. It was staring at him, eyes intently locked into his. And for one moment, he had fear rise up in his heart.  
But when he looked again, the cat was gone, and only the leaves and wind remained.  
  
Sirius Black had never been like this. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't even stand to lay there and do nothing. He felt as if he could do nothing. He didn't know where they were. They could be dead for all he knew.  
Peter maybe didn't even know.  
He stuffed his hand into his pocket for the thousandth time that afternoon, and retrieved the slip of parchment. Nothing. Still jumbled letters.  
Good.  
He checked it again, just in case, and then put it back in his pocket. He couldn't stand this anymore! He had to do something . . .  
Take a walk. That sounded good.  
Take a walk. He could take a walk.  
He stood up, threw on his coat, and headed out. He had an idea of where he was going. Past the church, past the Leaky Cauldron, and straight to that familiar street that he had grown to love. Maybe if he was lucky, James would be hidden there, inside the whitewashed walls.  
He doubted it, though it was worth hoping for.  
Grabbing his wand, he headed out the door and to the lift. His hair was long now, and his overcoat was heavy and worn. He walked onto the main landing, and out the front doors.  
Down the street he went, thinking to himself. Why didn't James send him a message? They were going to keep in touch. Why didn't James say anything to Peter? Why did Peter tell him that? Why would James want to stay a Muggle even after the war? It didn't even sound like him.  
But he remembered James, little James, thinking it would be a peaceful life. Is that why James wanted to stay? He didn't know where the hell he was . . .  
And Lily. How was Lily? And Harry. Was Harry warm at night? Did they have a nice house? Were they well off? Were they safe? How good were those curses? What if Remus found Sirius himself? He had no Secret Keeper to keep him safe. They would still be coming after him.  
It had been a week, and still no questions had been answered. He didn't know if they were safe or not. He didn't have any word from James. What if he never saw James again?  
He crossed the street.  
He had walked this road many times with James before. This is where they had had many conversations that ranged from the weather to morals to politics. Even though politics bored him to death, and so they usually didn't bother with that topic.  
Maybe he would write James a letter tonight, and give it to Peter to deliver it to him tomorrow when Peter went again. Why could Peter go? It was such a mistake to let Peter know where they were. If he had been Secret Keeper, he could be there right now, with them, laughing with Harry and sharing a butterbeer with James.  
But he knew that was wrong. He knew that he couldn't be the Secret Keeper. What was done was done, and it had worked so far. Peter was safe. He had done the right thing. And Peter was firm in his stance against Voldemort. He could see it in Peter's eyes. He would never tell anyone where their hiding place was.  
He felt a hatred against Remus well up in his heart, and he walked faster, digging his cold hands into his overcoat. How could Remus do this to them? He had trusted that man for most of his life, had only given him everything he could, and this is how he repaid them. He had risked his neck and well being for him, and then he just turned against them.  
I should have let him die, Sirius thought to himself darkly, I should have let the wolf kill him off when he was younger and stupider. I should have let Snape go to the end of that tunnel, and then Remus would have been either killed or sent to Azkaban. And he wouldn't have tried to kill us.  
All of a sudden, Sirius felt guilty for thinking such a thing. And yet the thought couldn't go away. How could he have stopped Remus?  
Another street he crossed, and his pace became quicker than before.  
How had they ended up like this? He was alone in the world, no one to turn to. Everything had been ripped away from him. James wasn't here anymore. What was he going to do? How long was James going to be away?  
He'll be back, Sirius thought, And it's because of him not being here now that he'll be here later. Be patient.  
But Remus. After this war, Sirius would kill him himself. Sirius would go after him with all of the curses he could think of, and make him suffer. He would make that monster suffer until he hung onto one more inch of life. And then he would let the wolf finish him off.  
Try to kill them. Try to kill Sirius's family. Oh, he would teach him to mess with them.  
It still pained him inside that he had risked everything to help that monster. He had risked his life, his school enrollment, his permanent record . . . his sanity.  
Everything.  
And still Lupin didn't see that.  
All of the sympathy that he had had for that creature died with the crossing of the next street, and soon Sirius felt himself running.  
They had made pact after pact, engraving their friendship into stone. They were to be friends for life, brothers bonded together by time. But now . . . now that was dead.  
Only four of the five remained.  
Remus had pushed them away. Remus had done the unthinkable. And still, Remus was not the one suffering. Remus could still attend the Order meetings. Remus was still in favor of the Headmaster. And Remus didn't have to wait for James to return.  
Remus wanted James dead.  
He stopped, and came to the street he had been looking for.  
The white house still stood, proud and tall. It still existed.  
A calmness came over Sirius, and all doubt floated away.  
"Everything's going to be all right," he said to himself quietly, looking at the Potter's old house, "Everything's going to be all right."  
He turned too fast to see the cat, making its way under the bushes in the front yard.  
  
The evening was alive with sounds of autumn. It was the night of Halloween. Children would be out and about soon, festivities rising and hitting its peak at midnight. for Remus as he sat on his porch, looking out to the woods. The wolf sat next to him, breathing down his neck.  
"And so it begins," the wolf said, looking off to the sunset. Remus shifted in his chair.  
"What begins," he said.  
"You know what," he said, "It."  
Remus ignored the wolf, and the wolf sneered.  
"It draws nearer."  
"So I've heard," Remus said, and stood up. The wolf walked alongside him as he stepped off of the porch, and stared at the axe in its dead stump. The wolf shook his fur free of leaves, and looked to the man.  
"And you do not fear it," he said, "Yet I sense your fear."  
"Oh, I fear it," Remus said, looking at the axe, "But I'm tired of always being afraid. I've always been scared. And I'm not anymore."  
"You think you've changed," the wolf laughed, "Well, I know you better than you know yourself, boy. And I know that you have never changed. That little boy in the Great Hall? He still lives. He lives inside of you."  
Remus looked to his front room window, and saw his reflection. A little blond boy, hair falling into his face, and knobbly knees no taller than the stump itself. He knew that boy well.  
"No," Remus said, looking away, and catching a glimpse of his now browned hair, "People change."  
"But they always are constant," the wolf replied, "I've known you, boy, since the tender age of five. I've read every one of your memories. Your friends are my friends. Your life is mine. How can you believe that I do not know your weaknesses as well?"  
"Someday, wolf," Remus said, looking at the axe, "I will kill you. One way or another, I will see you dead."  
"Not if I do the honors to you first," the wolf chortled, and Remus walked away from him, heading into the woods.  
"It draws nearer," the wolf laughed again, and then followed him into the growing darkness of the forest, "It's nearer than ever."  
As they disappeared behind the trees, the axe still stood, untouched, in its stump grave.  
  
Night had settled once again on the silent island. James and Lily had engaged in the tradition of Trick-or-Treating, handing out candy to all of the Muggle children. It had been a wonderful time, and Harry had had fun meeting all of the little ghouls and goblins that had handed their bags over to be filled with treats. Every little girl had commented on how beautiful he was, and all the little boys wanted to take him out to play with them. Lily had laughed as a small ghost asked her to put Harry in her treat bag.  
"No," she grinned, "This one is for me."  
James sat in the front room now, watching the telly, and playing with the buttons on the remote. He laughed at some joke that a Muggle made on the screen, and Lily cleaned up in the kitchen. They had just finished dinner, and now there were chores to do before putting Harry to bed.  
"Ma!" Harry cried from the front room where he sat with his father, "Pay! Pay! Ma!"  
Harry wanted to play. And Harry would get what he wanted.  
"Just a second, Harry!" Lily shouted from the sink, "Mommy's almost done."  
"Oh, come on, Lily," James laughed as Harry giggled, "You can do that later. We've got all day tomorrow."  
"What's tomorrow?"  
"Saturday, I think," James said, "I don't know."  
Lily sighed, wiped her hands dry, and walked to the front room. There, in front of her, was the sight of her husband, now rolling on the floor with Harry, both of them laughing. Harry's laughter was so beautiful.  
"Boys, come on," she said, grabbing Harry, "It's getting late. You should be getting ready for bedtime. Where are Harry's clean clothes?"  
"Probably in the back room, with all the rest of his things," James said, sitting up and adjusting his glasses, "But it's still early."  
"He's not going to bed, James," Lily took Harry, and walked into the back room, "I'm just getting him ready. Now which ones do you want to wear? The rabbits or the dogs?"  
She reached for the chain switch to the light, and pulled it on. Light illuminated the back room and Lily could see her reflection on the window. She was looking older and older every day, and she was only twenty one.  
The rabbit pajamas were settled on a box, and easily accessible. Lily grabbed the clothes, and handed it to Harry, "You like these?"  
Harry smiled.  
James settled back into his chair, and turned the telly off. He shut his eyes, and gave out a sigh. Tomorrow morning, Peter would be coming again. He should write that letter tonight.  
A shrill scream came from the back room, and James's eyes shot open.  
Something had happened.  
"Lily!" he jumped up on first instinct, and rushed to where his wife and son lay. The room seemed so long.  
He had to get there.  
Someone had attacked them.  
Something had happened.  
"Lily! Harry!" he shouted, running into the back room. He held his chest as he looked at the sight before him.  
Lily was holding Harry, sitting ontop of a large box. On the floor was a mouse the size of a fist. Lily was screaming, pointing at the mouse.  
"Get it out! Get it, James! Get it out! Kill it!"  
"Don't you do that to me, Lily Potter!" James said, slamming his shoe down on the unsuspecting creature. It lay still, stunned by the impact of the shoe.  
"Do what?" she asked, still shaking from the mouse attack, "Get it out of here!"  
"I can't kill a mouse!" he said.  
"It's not a mouse! It's too big to be a mouse! It's a rat!" Lily protested.  
"Well, then I really can't kill it, can I?" James said, "I've seen Peter turn into one of those things too many times."  
"Kill it, James."  
But the rat was gone. Harry whined, and Lily jumped off of the box.  
"It wasn't Peter, James," Lily said, "You could have killed it."  
And Lily was right. Peter was miles away. Yet James was spooked by it. The rat had been black, unlike Peter's brown fur. But it served as some sort of importance, he knew that much.  
What did it mean?  
"I'm getting Harry dressed now," Lily said, making her way up the stairs, "We'll be down in a minute."  
"All right," James sighed, mussed his hair, and sat down on a pile of crates. He reached for the chain light, and clicked the light off. His reflection in the mirror was replaced by the trees outside. It was a windy night, and he was sure all of the children had gone home by now.  
October 31st , 1981. Harry's second Halloween.  
He heard them above his head once more, Harry laughing and Lily humming a tune to herself. The hallway light radiated down the staircase, and he sat on the crates, not wanting to move.  
The rat had unnerved him. He had sworn that something had happened.  
"Nothing has happened yet, and it won't," he said, clenching his wand between his fingers, "It never will."  
He had two friends that would die before letting him get caught. He could trust them. Especially Sirius. Sirius knew what he was doing.  
"James?" Lily shouted from above his head.  
"Yeah?"  
"Did you turn the back porchlight on?"  
"No, why."  
"Oh, well, it must have come on by itself," she shouted back, "You should look at the backyard. It's beautiful."  
"What?"  
"The porchlight. It's making everything green."  
James turned his head, and looked to the backyard. Outside the front door, everything was indeed green.  
But not the green of the porchlight. Another shade that he had seen somewhere else before.  
And then it was gone.  
What was going on?  
"Lily, maybe you should come down here," he shouted up the stairs, "I think we should all stay together tonight."  
"Are you all right, James?" she asked, appearing at the top of the narrow staircase, Harry in her arms.  
"I'm fine," he said, jumping down from the crates, "Just . . . let's go back in the front room. In the light."  
Lily nodded, raising her brow, "Is something wrong?"  
"No," he said, mussing his hair again, "Nothing at all. I'm just . . . it's Halloween. Let's just go back in the front room."  
Lily turned, and James took one more look out the window. Everything seemed fine. Everything was as normal as before.  
Trees' shadows hung together, their branches swinging violently in the wind that blew across the beginnings of the woods. An animal moved through the darkness, moving forward, constant . . .  
As if it were floating.  
James's heart stopped, and he felt his body become frozen. He stared at the animal as it drew nearer.  
It was at least seven feet tall. And it was cloaked. Cloaked in a black robe.  
It was no animal.  
"It's him," he whispered. No, no, no. He was safe. They were all safe.  
It couldn't be him. It was just his stupid imagination again. Just like the cat, and the rat, and the green. It wasn't real.  
It wasn't real.  
"It's not real," he shouted, and Lily turned to look at James. She had never seen him so pale white before. He couldn't move. He was stuck in his spot. He couldn't move. He couldn't talk.  
He was coming.  
Closer and closer.  
He was coming to the back fence.  
He was opening the gate.  
He was floating through their backyard.  
He was coming to kill them.  
He was coming to kill Harry.  
"NO!" James said, lunging for the door. He bolted it, and then grabbed Lily's arm.  
"RUN!" he ordered her, pushing her up the stairs, "GO! SAVE HARRY!"  
"James, what's going on!" she demanded, and James pushed her.  
"THEY'RE HERE! GO TO THE FIREPLACE! GO, LILY! GO!"  
"IT'S WHO!?"  
"GO, LILY!"  
"JAMES!"  
"GO!" he pushed her once more, and she fell on the middle stair.  
"GET UP!" he said, helping her to her feet, "I'LL HOLD HIM OFF! GO!"  
"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" she screamed, but James raised his wand to point at her.  
"Go, Lily," he said, his eyes blazing, "Or I'll make you go."  
  
Lily stared at her husband for one moment, and then rushed up the stairs and to the corridor. She disappeared from James's sight.  
James turned to face the door. It was time to fight him off. He had done it before, he could do it again. Lily and Harry were safe. They would be safe. He just had to give them time to get out and get help. He could take Voldemort on. He could take him on.  
How did he know where they were? How did he know? Were all of his friends dead? How could they have . . .  
And then it hit him.  
The boy with the cloak.  
The boy from Gryffindor with the cloak.  
He remembered a summer's night now, in which he had woken to him getting up in a tizzy, wanting to use his cloak. He said he had forgotten his Transfiguration book in the Great Hall, and he had wanted to get it. James had given him the cloak.  
And the Christmas party. He had come into the house, looking guilty. Looking like something was wrong.  
And the Lestrange wedding. He had run. He hadn't fought.  
The mansion. He had hidden behind his friends.  
The night Harry was attacked. He had left for home with a stomach ache.  
And the Headquarters . . .  
The Headquarters . . .  
"Wormtail . . ." James muttered to himself in disbelief.  
The door opened with a bang, and there stood the demon from Hell itself. Seven feet, donned in black and night, and a pair of eyes smiling maliciously at their victim.  
"Potter," the voice came, and James raised his wand.  
"THEY'RE NOT HERE!" he shouted.  
"We meet again," the demon said, stepping into the back room, "For the last time, sadly."  
"I SAID THEY'RE NOT HERE!" he screamed, "WE WERE HIDDEN IN DIFFERENT PLACES! IT'S JUST ME!"  
"I remember before Igor killed your father," the shadow said, raising his wand, "He got on bended knee, and pleaded me to spare you."  
"HE'S NOT HERE!" James screamed again, and raised his wand, "I'LL KILL YOU!"  
"He's upstairs," Voldemort hissed, "With his Mudblood mother."  
"You'll have to kill me first!" James said, blocking the stairs with his body.  
"That was the idea," he hissed, and then raised his wand, "Too many times have you slipped from my hands. Too many times have I let you live. Now there is no one to help you, Potter. Now there is no old fossil to save you. There are no more friends. You are alone."  
James raised his wand, "YOU'LL NEVER WIN! HE'S MY SON! HE'LL KILL YOU!"  
"Not if I kill him first," Voldemort pointed the wand at his victim's throat, and he pressed his back to the stairs.  
A strike of courage ran through James's heart at that moment. Before him, he saw everything he had lost. Everything he had to lose. He saw Sirius. Wendy. Sprite. Mum. Dad.  
Most of all, he saw Harry.  
"Harry," James whispered, and then he took the last ounce of strength he had left, shoved his wand into Voldemort's chest, and screamed out every curse he knew.  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort shouted, and a green light shot from the tip of his own wand, and flew to James's chest. James felt the charge run through his entire body. Green sparks shot from all sides, and he took in a deep breath.  
"HARRY!" he heard himself scream, and then he began to fall backwards. His body was weakening. He began to feel dizzy.  
The green was choking him. Ripping at his chest.  
He saw Sirius in the compartment, sitting with his Daily Prophet.  
He saw Remus at the end of the tunnel, pleading for help.  
He saw Peter, stroking his rat.  
Faster he fell, the green enveloping him.  
He saw Sirius, tranforming into a large dog.  
He saw Remus, sitting by the fire with his Herbology books.  
The laughter of the man. The screaming of a woman.  
He saw Sirius, sitting on the Quidditch bleachers, shouting up to him from below.  
He saw Remus, holding a letter in his hands. "I'm sorry."  
His hand letting go of the wand.  
He saw Sirius, helping him out of his white house.  
His legs going numb.  
He saw a church. A large church filled with everyone he loved.  
His arms go numb.  
And then a white dress appear.  
And then he saw Lily.  
He smiled as his head continued falling through green.  
He saw Lily.  
Lily.  
He had to hold onto Lily.  
Lily.  
Lily.  
He saw the hard stair hit the back of his skull as he finally landed on the wood. But he didn't feel it.  
He was floating. Floating now through white.  
White all around him. He was blinded by the brightness of his surroundings.  
Lily.  
Lily.  
And then, through the white, he saw her eyes.  
Her green eyes, smiling back at him.  
  
"JAMES!" Lily screamed, tears rushing down her face, "JAAAAMMMEESSS!"  
Someone was rushing up the stairs towards her. She had seen the flash of light from halfway down the corridor. Harry was screaming. She couldn't think. Which door was the nursery?  
"JAMES!"  
He was dead.  
He was dead. She had heard the curse. She knew what had happened.  
"Give me the boy, and you will not be hurt," a man's voice came from the staircase.  
He was coming closer! She had to run! She had to get to the fireplace! She had to save herself now.  
James was dead.  
James was dead.  
He couldn't be dead.  
"Give me the boy, you stupid girl."  
Lily found the nursery door, and kicked it open. Holding Harry in her arms, she leaped into the room. She turned around, and screamed.  
There he was. Right there in the doorway.  
"NOOOO!" Lily screamed, and slammed the door.  
"Lockatus!" she pointed her wand to the knob, and it bolted itself. A charm she had learned many years ago. It would ward him off, but not for long. They had to get to the fireplace. They had to . . .  
"Alohomora."  
The door shook, but it didn't open.  
She screamed, and then looked to the bed. She wouldn't be able to get across the nursery in time.  
James was dead.  
She couldn't think.  
James was dead.  
James was dead.  
She ran for her son's bed. She had to protect him. She couldn't save him. But she had to try. She had to try.  
"I'm coming, James," she whispered through her tears as she made a bolt for the crib. Harry was screaming.  
"Shh, Harry," she said, sobbing. She was almost there, "Mommy's here . . ."  
BAAAMMMM!!!  
Green exploded into the room, and the door flew off of its hinges. Lily screamed, and was pushed forward by the force, dropping Harry in the crib and hitting her head on the crib gate. She fell to the ground, but caught herself and lifted herself to her shaky legs to face whatever would come. She would die before she let him touch her son.  
"PLEASE!" she pleaded with the hooded creature who now stood in the entrance of the doorway, "PLEASE DON'T KILL MY BABY! PLEASE!"  
"Move," he hissed, "Move, and give me the boy."  
"PLEASE!" she cried, folding her hands together, "PLEASE! HE'S JUST A LITTLE BOY! PLEASE! PLEASE! JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM!"  
"This is your last chance."  
"PLEASE!"  
And Voldemort raised his wand again, pointing it this time, at the girl's heart.  
"Avada Kedavra."  
And the green light came again, hitting her in her chest.  
Her hair flew out of her face, and the green light engulfed her. Her eyes became large, almost popping out of her head. Something tore at her chest, choking her from inside.  
And her beautiful, graceful body fell. It fell through the crib's gate, and landed lifeless next to the little boy with the green eyes. Her outstretched hand, now pale and cold, seemed to reach for the baby, as if making one last attempt.  
The child looked at his dead mother, and then at the shadow that had killed her. His mother's face was so white. Her eyes were wide open, the emerald now dead. Yet her body still glowed.  
It glowed green.  
Like her eyes.  
Like his eyes.  
And the shadow passed to tower over him. The shadow raised his wand, laughing. Harry looked to the man above him. His mother's eyes were now his. They looked out to the man.  
Emerald.  
Green. 


	112. Chapter 111: Revenge

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Sirius's eyes shot open, and sweat rolled down his face. His breathing was hard, and his heart was pounding.  
It was late at night, maybe midnight. Something had woken him up. A thousand screams. He remembered a horrible nightmare.  
His stomach churned, and he sat up. Something was wrong. Something had happened.  
"You're being stupid, Sirius," he said to himself, "You're being stupid. Just go back to sleep . . ."  
But he couldn't. The night was quiet as he stood up, and crossed over to his chair to retrieve his pants.  
There was the wrinkled piece of parchment, now lodged in the right pocket. Sirius took it with shaking hands, and quickly unfolded it.  
It would just be a bunch of old jumbled letters, like the hundreds of other times he had checked it.  
But it wasn't.  
He felt the room spin, and his hand let go of the parchment. It floated to the ground, like a ghost flying through the air. It read:  
James Potter and Harry Potter and Lily Potter can be found at number 5 Godric's Hollow.  
The words were clear.  
  
"PETER!"  
He banged on the door again.  
"PETER! PETER, THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU CALL A JOKE, PETER!"  
Nothing. No one was answering. All of the lights were on inside. Sirius looked in the window. Nothing was moved. No sign of a brawl. Nothing had happened.  
No one had been here.  
He took his foot to the door, and kicked it in. It fell in, collapsing on the floor. Sirius ran in, and flew to the living room.  
"PETER! ANSWER ME, YOU DAMNED RAT! ANSWER ME!"  
No answer.  
Peter wasn't here.  
He had to check upstairs.  
"PETER!"  
He flew up the stairs, and pushed every door open. No one was inside. No one.  
He jumped off the staircase and into the kitchen. No one.  
"PETTIGREW!" Sirius shouted.  
God, he should have been watching the house more carefully. Someone had come and kidnapped him.  
But wait. He had been the only person who knew where he was hidden. He had been his Secret Keeper. And there was no furniture astray. No blood. No sign of an argument.  
"My God," he said, feeling his legs collapse from underneath him, "Oh my God. Oh my God."  
He reached for the kitchen counter for support, but he couldn't breathe anymore. He had been wrong all along. He had been dead wrong.  
"I'll kill him," Sirius said, his eyes hollowing, "I'll kill him. I'll kill him."  
And then it hit him.  
James. Lily. Harry.  
Number five Godric's Hollow.  
"I'll kill him," Sirius said. He had to stop Peter before Voldemort got there. He had to stop them. He'd take him down. He'd die before seeing James dead.  
He had to save them.  
  
His motorbike landed on the street of Godric's Hollow. It was a windy night, with the autumn leaves blowing every which way. They made tiny cyclones, and danced across the street. Sirius parked his bike, and felt himself running, his wand ready to attack.  
He'd kill him.  
He'd kill him.  
He'd . . .  
He came to a halt at the end of the street as he looked at the corner house. Number five. That was number five.  
The problem was, there wasn't a house there anymore. Just a smoldering pile of glowing rubble.  
Rubble.  
He had already been here.  
"No," Sirius said, rushing forward, "JAMES! LILY!"  
Down the hill he went, into the splinters of wood and concrete. They had to be here somewhere. They were alive. There were no Dark Marks above the house. Nothing was there. They were alive.  
It was so dark, and only the streetlight's orange light shone down on the remnants of a house he had never seen before. They had to be somewhere.  
  
He fell down into a valley of crates and boxes. He recognized some of the clothes, even though it was hard to. They were all burnt and singed by a fire of some sort. And all of it glowed green.  
They were alive.  
Sirius began tearing away at the crates, throwing them over his shoulder. He came to a staircase. Or at least, that's what he thought it was. It had to be.  
He threw one more box over his shoulder, and then turned back to pick up another. But he stopped, and felt his heart pound inside his chest.  
No, it was a trick of the light. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.  
He bent down, shaking, trembling. He couldn't think anymore. He raised a hand slowly to brush away the dust from the white skin protruding from the debris. He felt the iciness of the body, and he tore his hand away.  
The body was dead.  
He stared at it, mortified. Black hair. Eyes wide open.  
He knew that face in Hell itself.  
"No," he said, loosing all feeling in his body. It had happened. It had finally happened.  
"No, please," he said, breathing faster, and grabbing the body. He took the still figure and lay its head in his lap. He clenched it so hard to his chest, and he rocked back and forth, "No. Come on, Prongs. Wake up. Come on."  
But James didn't respond.  
James was dead.  
"James, don't do this to me," he cried, feeling the tears falling down his face, "No, James. This isn't funny. Don't bully me, James. Don't you joke around. This isn't funny. JAMES! WAKE UP! JAMES!" he screamed, "LOOK AT ME, JAMES! I'M SORRY FOR SCARING YOU IN THE HOSPITAL! I'M SORRY! JUST WAKE UP!"  
It was just a prank. A prank to set all of his aside. Wasn't a very nice prank, but at least it was just that. Just a prank.  
But James was so cold. And he wasn't moving. His chest wasn't rising and falling, and his heart wasn't beating.  
James was dead.  
"You're not dead," Sirius said, "You're not . . . you're James, you can't die. You . . . you and I were gonna get old, remember? You're just . . . you're just a kid . . ."  
James didn't respond. Sirius half expected him to sit up and start laughing in his face. But no. Not this time.  
James wouldn't come back this time. James was gone. Forever.  
"No," Sirius said, grabbing a fistfull of James's black hair, "No, James! Peter was supposed to be safe! It was Remus! It was always Remus!"  
A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned around, expecting to see Lily standing above him, ready to share his sympathy.  
But it wasn't.  
A large man standing at twelve feet held a bundle in his hand, his beady and teary eyes blinking from behind his large bushy beard. It was a giant.  
"Sirius," Hagrid said, his voice strained, "Ah'm . . . Ah don' know exactly what ter say."  
"He's dead," Sirius whispered, looking back at James, "He's . . . he's dead."  
"Yah," Hagrid said, holding the bundle tighter, "An' I foun' this little tyke next to his mother. Over there."  
Sirius followed Hagrid's gaze to another pile, higher along the side of his little ditch. The side of James's grave.  
A streak of red hair stuck out from under a wooden board. He felt sick to his stomach, and swallowed to stop his dinner from rising up his throat. The acid stung, and he choked.  
"No," he cried, and held James closer, "No."  
"He's dead, Sirius."  
"NO!" Sirius howled, and took James's hand.  
"No, no' James," Hagrid said, "You-Know-Who. He's dead."  
Sirius stopped, and looked back to Hagrid, "What? What do you mean he's dead?"  
"He killed him."  
"What?"  
"Harry," Hagrid said, exposing the bundle to show Sirius, "Li'le 'Arry killed 'im."  
Sirius now saw Harry, unscathed, sleeping quietly in Hagrid's arms. He looked perfectly content, and unaware of the destruction around him. He looked exactly like he had before he and his parents had left.  
His parents were now dead.  
"I . . . how . . ."  
And then he remembered. Two of the boys would be the end of the war. The prophecy. The prophecy had been completed.  
Voldemort was dead.  
The war was over.  
But at the cost of his friend's life. James's life.  
Then he saw it. A zig zagged scar on Harry's head, forever carved into his skin. It looked almost like lightning.  
"Yup, tha's where the spell ha' hit him, Ah imagine," Hagrid said, covering Harry's face once more with the blanket.  
"He killed him," Sirius said quietly. He couldn't think anymore. Everything was gone. His family. His life.  
He wanted to end it now.  
"He did," Hagrid said, setting a gigantic hand on Sirius's shoulder.  
Harry cooed.  
A memory came back to him. A memory of James. Alive. In the Leaky Cauldron.  
He had promised him to take care of Harry. He had promised him he would make sure he was safe.  
James still lived in Harry. Harry was alive.  
"Give him to me, Hagrid," Sirius said, his dead eyes set on the bundle in the giant's arms. Hagrid held Harry closer to his overcoat.  
"Ah, now, Sirius," Hagrid said, "Ah can't do that."  
"I'm his godfather, Hagrid," Sirius explained, rising to his feet, "James told me that if anything happened to him, I had to take care of Harry. Now give him to me."  
"Dumbledore's got plans fah him," Hagrid said, covering the child's ears as if he could hear what they spoke of, "Great plans. Ye just need tah trust 'im."  
"I don't give a damn what some crackpot old wizard says! He's my godson! I swore my blood for him! Now give him over!"  
Hagrid let this insult pass, knowing that it was Sirius's broken spirit that made him say the things he did. On no other condition would he have let Sirius speak to him in that manner. Or speak of his Headmaster in that manner.  
So he just shook his head, and tried to show his sympathies.  
"Ahm sorry, Sirius."  
Sirius looked to the body of James once again, and felt his world cave in. It had finally happened. Everything that he had feared. It had finally come into place. James was dead, and there was nothing he could do.  
He felt the tears come. He couldn't think anymore. James. Lily. Harry. James . . .  
He fell on James's body, overcome by his grief. He tried to hear James's heartbeat. Some sort of a sign that he was still alive. But no. James was truly dead.  
He was detached from the world. He couldn't really fathom what it all meant. He had lost Harry. He had lost his best friend. He had lost Lily. He had wrongfully accussed Remus. He had led James and Lily to death.  
They had protested against his wishes to call Peter. He had told them to trust him. They had.  
And now they were dead. They were dead because they trusted him.  
"He killed him," Sirius sobbed. James was dead. Voldemort had killed him. Hagrid nodded.  
"He sure did," Hagrid said, somewhat proud. Harry had killed Voldemort. And now the Great War had ended. After ten years, it had finally ended.  
James had trusted Sirius. They had both known that he himself was not the traitor. So why didn't they just use him? Or Remus! How could they have been so blind? Peter would have been the first to cross over! As soon as the war started picking up, Peter must have run to Voldemort with his tail between his legs, begging for mercy.  
He'd kill him.  
He'd kill him.  
By God, he would kill that rat.  
There was nothing left to do. What else could he do?  
He had nothing left.  
His family was dead. His godson was lost to him. Remus would never speak to him again. And Dumbledore would be coming for him any moment now. He thought that he had been the spy. They would all be after him.  
He had nothing left. His life was in ruins. He would spend the rest of his life either running from the law, or in Azkaban. And he couldn't go to Azkaban. He had heard things from James about that place. He couldn't go there.  
So what else to do?  
Sirius collected himself long enough to look at Hagrid, and point to the street above them.  
"My motorbike," he said through his tears, "Is up there. Take it. Get Harry where he needs to go."  
"Sirius . . ."  
"I won't be needing it anymore," he muttered, looking back at James.  
He would kill that rat. He would leave him in cold blood. He wouldn't curse him, he would flat out kill him. The old fashioned way.  
Hagrid saw Sirius's distress, and decided it was best if he left him alone. So without another word, he climbed up the debris, and out of sight. As Sirius stared into the pale cold eyes of James's corpse, he heard the bike's motor start, and then whizz into the night sky. It would only be minutes before the Muggles started poking around, calling their Muggle police and sifting through the rubble. James and Lily would be taken to a Muggle morgue, probably.  
He wanted to puke, thinking about James and Lily in a morgue.  
James looked at him in that blank expression that he had never worn before. His face had always been so full of life, with his black hair falling into his face and his eyes smiling with mischief. Now James was still. He would never smile again.  
He continued to stare into the eyes of his brother, continued to think of what he would do to that traitor . . .  
"Someone messes with one of us, he messes with all of us," Sirius whispered to himself, and to James. Then he took his hands and closed his friend's eyes out of respect. The horrified expression on the man's face remained. Sirius couldn't wipe that off.  
And it was at that moment, looking at the frozen muscles of James's frozen expression, hearing the motor of his beloved bike riding off with his last hope, seeing the red streak of hair in the rubble out of the corner of his eye . . . that something inside Sirius Black snapped. His skin became pale, and his eyes glazed over. The hollow deadness set in, and his face became as dark as his hair. His muscles tensed, and his hands balled into fists.  
And he did not laugh. And he did not cry.  
He screamed, hollered, a shout to the world, telling them that he would avenge his losses. He would kill before tomorrow night.  
James was dead. Sirius was alive.  
And Peter would join James before the sun set again. 


	113. Chapter 112: Nothing Left

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Note from the author: I am very busy with other projects, but I will finish Forever Alive. Bear with me. This story is not over.)  
  
It was late in the night when Frank Longbottom was called from his hideout to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Alice helped him dress, and Neville slept as they said their goodbyes. Frank hadn't known what had happened during the night, but the Headmaster seemed anxious. He arrived in the school a little past three o' clock in the morning. The entire castle was asleep, except for select members of the staff. These members included Hagrid and Dumbledore, along with a man that he had never seen before in his life. The man was sleek, thin and black-haired with a long nose that protruded from the rest of his features. It was this man that frightened him the most.  
"Frank, please sit down," Dumbledore said, offering him a chair, "We have urgent news."  
Frank, finding Moody in the back corner of the Headmaster's office, nodded. Moody did not respond. Frank took his chair and waited to be spoken to. He had had these sorts of meetings before, but not in this fashion. The manner of the night visit was not as he had thought it was to be. All faces were grim, yet excited as Dumbledore said good night to Hagrid, and he left through the fireplace on the farther side of the office.  
The black-haired man took a seat next to Dumbledore, and Frank was surprised. Dumbledore had only been flanked by two people: Moody and himself. This stranger setting beside the Headmaster himself was quite out of the ordinary.  
"May I ask who this is?" Frank said, and Moody coughed.  
"This is Professor Severus Snape," Dumbledore replied, offhandedly, "He has just been added to the staff here at Hogwarts. He comes highly recommended."  
"Added to the staff as what?" Frank asked.  
"Potions Master," Professor Severus Snape snarled, and Frank's eyes narrowed.  
"I know you," he said, "You were that Death Eater . . ."  
"We shall not speak of such names in these walls," Dumbledore said, hushing Longbottom, "This is a time of much joy and praise. No names shall be uttered."  
"What's happened, Headmaster?" Frank asked, somewhat aggrivated, and Dumbledore only shook his head.  
In a somber voice, he added, "It is a time of much despair as well."  
Frank froze, and Dumbledore's sparkling eyes looked into his, as if not having to speak words to tell him the horrors of the night. Frank knew what had happened already. He knew it would happen somehow.  
"The war is over?" he whispered.  
"Yes," Dumbledore said slowly, "It is over."  
Frank gave out a shout of joy, and looked to Moody, "It's over!"  
But Moody didn't respond. He just looked to the floor, in bitter disgust in himself.  
"What . . . why are you all looking like that? It's over! We've won! We won the war!" Frank said in esctasy, "It's . . ."  
Moody turned away, covering his face with his cloak. Dumbledore sighed, and set his old brittle hand on his wooden desktop.  
"Everything comes at a price, Longbottom," he continued, "The end came with a loss as well. The Potters."  
Frank froze again, and his happiness was cut short.  
"The Potters? James?" he said.  
"Yes," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, "They are dead. All but their son. Your family is to be moved back into your father's house by this morning, and no one will ever speak your son's name in the same text as the prophecy for years to come. He is a safe child, Longbottom. You are all safe. Consider yourselves better off than the Potters are this night."  
Frank's face fell, and he stood, bowing his head, "James was a good man. I wish to put his name on the Memorial."  
"Well, that is a generous offer, Longbottom," Dumbledore said, "But I believe that duty will be given to either Peter Pettigrew or Remus Lupin."  
The absence of Sirius Black's name did not strike Frank at first, but it would hours later when he saw the scene he would see. But at that moment, it struck Alastor Moody, directly in the heart. He turned once again from the scene of the office and scanned the fields of the castle. He did not wish to show Frank his emotions. He did not wish to let Dumbledore know of his thoughts. So he ignored them until Frank had left, escorted by Severus Snape, and it was only Albus that remained.  
The door shut behind the two, leaving the older men alone. Albus turned to Moody, and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.  
"Alastor, it is not your fault . . ."  
"Whoever said it was my fault," Mad Eye exclaimed, snapping around to glare at him, "I do not take the blame for this. I never will."  
"But you do," Dumbledore said, "We all do."  
"Damn fools got themselves blown up, it's none of my business," he argued, "They want to play their tricks on one another, playing tattle tale on their friends, I can't stop them. They write their own fates! I had nothing to do with those damned gits! They were deserving to die to trust him."  
"You don't mean that, Alastor," Dumbledore said sadly, "We all thought we saw good in Black. We were wrong."  
"No, Albus," Moody said, crossing the room to let himself out the front door, "You were wrong."  
  
It was early in the morning as the people of the city made their way down the streets to get to their random jobs. It was still crowded on the small street, even if the clock hadn't even struck nine yet. The world was just waking up to a brand new sunrise as the Muggles wandered the street, looking in the different store windows and hurrying to get to where they were supposed to be going. No one noticed the black haired man, shoving his way through the crowds.  
His eyes were dark and hollow. Darker than anything that had come from Hell itself. He could not see anything but what was in front of him, and he couldn't see the people around him, trying to walk around him and ignore him.  
The world was still going, even if he himself was dead inside.  
James. Lily.  
James was dead.  
James was dead ...  
He hadn't slept all night. His eyes were bloodshot as he dug his nails into his palms. He would get revenge. He wouldn't let him live. He wouldn't let him get to that train station.  
He knew where that rat was going. He had seen the train ticket all of those days ago. Had it only been a few days? How long had it been since James had died? How long had he been without them?  
He was on his own. The world had turned against him. The God that James had believed in had failed them. James was dead. How about that, James? God betrayed you! I went to church! I went to church for you and I prayed every night! But guess what? You're dead! You prayed all your life! And you're dead! Was it worth it, James? Huh, James?  
Overcome with grief he continued to walk. He couldn't stop walking. He had to continue. He had to find that rat and strangle him with his very own hands. He had to kill him. These thoughts wouldn't stop until he killed him. He had to see Pettigrew dead to continue on with life.  
He was alone. Completely alone. Remus would never talk to him again. Pettigrew was a killer. The Order would think it was him who had killed his best friend. And James ...  
James was dead.  
The tickets on the counter. He was going to catch a train and get out of down.  
But little did he know that Sirius was coming for him.  
Sirius scanned the crowds, looking for that little head of that traitor. He would kill him. He would kill him. He wouldn't let him live after what he did. He would take him and wring his little neck.  
And then he saw him. Up in front about twenty feet, about to cross the street to get to a main road. He was trembling and wringing his hands together, dressed in a cloak.  
It had to be him! He could tell from his hunched stance. The waddling pace. The hands wringing together. The hands that had signed the Order contract.  
The beady little eyes.  
The eyes that had stared right at all of them and had lied to all of them.  
"PETTIGREW!" Sirius howled, and Peter jumped. He turned around, and his eyes became as wide as saucers.  
"No ..." he mouthed, and then he broke off in a sprint down the street. Sirius shoved a lady out of his way and flew after him. He wouldn't let him get away!  
His eyes only focused on that murderer. He would kill him.  
The visions of James ran through his head. Lily's hair. Harry ...  
They had all made a deal! They had made a deal! They had signed a pact! They had been friends!  
HOW COULD HE HAVE NOT SEEN IT WAS THE RAT?!  
IT WAS ALL HIS FAULT!  
HE WOULD MAKE HIM PAY!  
HE WOULD KILL HIM.  
HE WOULDN'T LET HIM GET AWAY!  
"PETTIGREW! YOU RAT!"  
Peter ran around a corner and Sirius skidded as he followed him into a dead end. It was a small lot of the street, and about fifteen Muggles walked around them. Peter stared at the small corner, at his dead end ...  
At his death.  
Sirius raised his wand as he came to a stop. This was it. He could take care of the problem. It's time to die, Pettigrew.  
He gripped his wand as the little rat scurried from the side of the corner to the other side, pacing, looking worriedly around at the people around him. He then looked to Sirius, who was smiling evilly. This was it, you little rat. You damned little rat. You rat!  
Peter's eyes then became solid, and Sirius furrowed his brow. Peter was standing straight. Peter was taking out his wand. Peter was putting it behind his back.  
What was he doing?  
Was he going to kill himself?  
He was going to kill himself.  
He wasn't going to let Sirius have his satisfaction. He was going to end it himself.  
And then Peter, licking his chubby lips, shouted words that Sirius couldn't register. But he knew what the man in front of him was doing. He knew perfectly well. That selfish little turncoat. He was writing Sirius's epitaph at that very moment. He would see Sirius rot in jail before he gave up.  
Right before the explosion, Sirius swore he could see Peter smile maliciously at him. He had finally outsmarted his genius friends. He had finally done it.  
And then the world broke apart. The cement broke apart from underneath their feet, and the Muggles screamed. Sirius watched in horror as the fires exploded right in front of his face. The flames lapped at his face, and he saw the innocent people falling to the ground or running away. So many people ... So much fire.  
Sirius couldn't move.  
The sewer opened up as the cement flew through the air and smashed against the store windows. Screams. Cries. Hell.  
Hell.  
Sirius dropped his wand, and he fell to his knees. This was his revenge. This was his God. This is what God let happen.  
Peter had killed himself.  
The visions of James. Of Lily. Of Peter. Of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Of Elise. Of Gideon and Fabian. Of Dorcas. Of Emmeline. Of ...  
The sirens of the Muggle bobbies were heard from a few blocks away. And the sirens of the Ministry cars were coming from the other direction. It was over. There was no escape.  
And that's when he felt the tug at his heart. That's when he couldn't breathe. He was choking on the scene in front of him. The smoke engulfed him, as the Muggles fell to the ground. His vision doubled, and his body tensed. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't ...  
A chuckle started from low down in his throat, and became a cackle that he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop laughing. He had to shut it out. He couldn't fathom what was going on. How could this have happened?  
How could he have let this happen?  
He had killed them.  
He had killed them all.  
The sirens got closer, but he couldn't hear them. Sirius Black was gone, lost to the world. He couldn't feel the hands of Frank Longbottom and Cornelius Fudge grab him and throw him in the back of a heavily guarded Ministry car. He couldn't hear the shrill screams of a Muggle child who was being held by a bobby. He couldn't see the fires.  
It was all gone. He was in darkness. He could shut it out. He could shut it out.  
As the car sped away, he heard James's voice in his head.  
"Why do you do that? Why do you think that you have to laugh?"  
Because, Sirius thought, not knowing if he said it out loud or in his head, There's nothing else I can do. 


	114. Chapter 113: The Boy Who Lived

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(Disclaimer: "The Boy Who Lived" is a phrase that originated from J.K. Rowling. I do not take credit for it in any way.)  
  
(Note from the author: Here's a new long awaited chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it.)  
  
Remus had been walking all night. He had heard the rustling of the leaves, the quietness of the forest. Nothing had touched him through the entire evening and morning. At night, the wolf had laughed loud, and had howled at the moon above them. But Remus hadn't stirred. He hadn't heard the wolf's call. He hadn't wanted to.  
In the morning, he had risen from his rock near the creek, and had continued walking. It had been a very long stroll. He hadn't wanted to go home. He had to figure this out. What was he going to do. He had to kill off the wolf somehow. He had to get rid of it. But how could he. How could he just rid himself of something that had been there for so long, no matter what he had done.  
"You would be lost without me," the wolf said, "Without me, you are nothing. You are a boneless, spineless, shred of emptiness without me. Who would you hate if I was not here?"  
There was no answer from the wolf's victim, and they continued to walk.  
"Yourself," the wolf replied for the both of them, "You would hate yourself. You couldn't blame anything on me any longer. Every single action you made would be blamed upon you. Not your body. Not me. But your own soul. Your very own soul. When this war is over, you won't take the responsibility for that man you killed in the field that night. Or the countless others that you murdered with your own wand. Your own conscience."  
"Shut up," Remus hissed.  
"You are a murderer," the wolf said, "You were born to be a murderer. And you will always be a murderer. That is why Dumbledore chose you for the Order. He knew what you were capable of."  
"Shut up."  
"That's why your friends feared you so."  
"I said shut up."  
"That's why James didn't choose you."  
"I SAID ..."  
"Remus," a voice called from the outskirts of the forest. Remus stopped, and looked around to see where he had found himself. His cabin was in sight. And a figure was posted outside of it, his arms crossed and staring out into the woods to see where the screaming was coming from. His first thought was James when he saw the stance. The arrogant way of posing for the world to see, and aware that he was in charge of the situation.  
Yet, when he came closer, he realized that the back was hunched lower, and the figure wore a dark purple robe and long white hair. It was Dumbledore.  
He walked forward, unaware of why the Headmaster would be at his home. Dumbledore never made house calls. He would have expected Moody or Frank or . . .  
Not Dumbledore.  
From the eyes in the forest, one could see Remus walk to the Headmaster. Any neighbor that may have happened to be watching this scene carrying on from a far off window or kitchen or possibly even the woods itself would have not heard a word uttered between the two men. They would have just seen the back of Lupin, and the unfaltering stance of the older gentleman.  
If they had continued to watch, they would have seen Lupin fall to the ground; first on his knees, and then kneeling to the ground, his hands clenched together in a tight fist. They then would have seen him grab the purple cloak and ball it into his hands. And if they had continued to watch after this episode, enlightened by the drama and unknown story (as the present reader would be), they would have seen the two men walk to the front door, the elder one supporting the boy, and continue on inside.  
It would be hours later that the boy would return to the outside, rip down his sign that read "JE NE MOURRAI PAS," and throw it into the woods with a defiant scream. The old man never exited the house, but surely was not there to hear this tantrum.  
  
Azkaban was cold and dark that night. The guard, Jerry, who seemed to be chewing away at ice, waited for the oncoming boat to arrive at his port. He had become accustomed to these noises around him. The quiet pleading of the women, the screaming and howling of the men, and the dead silence of the crazed and forgotten.  
They were expecting a late shipment that night. All of the guards were on duty, and all of the returned dementors had found their place once more on their respectable stations. They had returned at the dawn as soon as the world found out what had taken place that Halloween night.  
It was a miracle, and everyone said so.  
The Potters, a respectable Ministry family, had been found dead early that morning. But their son still lived. And the Dark Lord was no where to be found. All had returned to Order. Most of the prisoners imprisoned did not know of the gracious day. To them it was just like every other day: cold and empty.  
Jerry checked his watch, and saw that the cargo was late. They were supposed to arrive at least a half an hour ago. He looked through the dim darkness of the underground tunnel, and tried to picture a boat there. Try to see the men clambering out and then running off through the tunnel as fast as they could. But no one came.  
The darkness had started to seep over the island of Azkaban, and as the time rolled on, the more impatient Jerry became.  
It must have been around eleven o' clock that the boat finally arrived. Of course, it wasn't the sight of the boat that told Jerry that it had come at last. He heard the cargo before he saw it.  
It was laughing.  
Laughing in an uncontrollable manner. It pierced through the tunnel, and Jerry felt his skin grow cold and his blood turn to ice. For a man who had spent his adult life near the dementors and had not stepped foot off of the island for a good ten years ... it wasn't easy for him to become fearful for his life.  
What sort of a monster were they bringing him?  
The laughing continued. It was a murderous laugh, high pitched at times and then as low as a rumbling bass. It was uncontrolled, without rhythm or any sort of pattern. Fluxuations and bursts of screaming. And the whole while, no words were spoken. No words came from the prisoner's mouth. Just the ill-minded howling from this beast of a man.  
The boat hit the side of the dock, and the boat drivers picked up the shackled man by the arms and threw him onto the deck. The man's hair was longer, blacker. His eyes were dark and as empty as the blackest night's sky. The skin was pale and sweaty. And he was covered in chains. From his face to his ankles, chains covered him, caging him within his own body.  
The man had no name. He had no origins. He just lay in front of Jerry, still cackling and not even aware that he had been thrown with much force onto a stone floor. He didn't care that he was bleeding from many gashes on his body, or that his left eye was so bruised that he couldn't open it. It didn't cross Jerry's mind that these abusive marks could have been caused by the imprisoners or the jailers before him. It seemed as if maybe he had done it to himself. It was the only explanation. Maybe the chains weren't to keep him (Jerry) safe, but more for the chains' owner himself's sake.  
Jerry, lost for words, looked to the boatmen.  
The first shrugged, a cold feeling of depression falling on him.  
"He came to us like this," he explained, "He was the one who killed all them people this morning. Said to be You-Know-Who's top man."  
"There's no one with him? No family? No friends?"  
"Don't think he's got any," the second boatman said, "Who would befriend something like that?"  
"Can I have his name?" Jerry asked, as the dementors glided down the stone steps and grabbed the prisoner by his arms. The man's laughter became screaming and his good eye grew wide as if something was playing out in front of him.  
"No ... n-n-no!" he shrieked, "NOOO! DON'T KILL HIM!"  
"That's the first we've heard him speak," the first boatman said to Jerry, "He's had a few too many bolts removed from the head, if you know what I mean."  
"Bolts ..." Jerry thought, and then decided that this boatman must be a Mudblood.  
"All we know is his name is Black," the second boatman said, now seeing the look of disgust Jerry had given his colleague, "Sirius Black. Was the one to turn in Potter, he was. The one to go a squealin' to You- Know-Who."  
"Ah, is he now," Jerry said, finishing his ice, "Well, we have a good place for him. Don't worry. We take good care of our guests here."  
And as predicted, the boatmen flew off through the tunnel as fast as they could.  
Jerry sighed, and followed his prisoner up the stairs. The prisoner continued screaming, and Jerry kicked him.  
"Oh, shut up!" he sighed, and then decided that it was best he didn't do that again. The first impression of this crazed man came back to him, and he thought it would be for the better of both of them if he let his dementors do the work for him.  
It was in this next hallway that the dementors stopped at a iron door, and waited for their jailer to open the latch with his key. Jerry did so, and the floating demons threw their lost prisoner into the cold, brick room.  
Sirius didn't feel any of this. The sheer presence of the dementors had deepened his insanity. All he could make out through his eye is the light diminishing as he was left in the dark.  
Forever.  
"NOOOOOOO!" he screamed, and he struggled with his chains. A chain cut into his face, breaking his skin and making him bleed. But he felt no pain.  
In front of him, in the darkness, he saw the Dark Mark. He saw the dead body of James. He saw Remus as a monster. He saw Elise. He saw Lily.  
And he saw Peter.  
"PEETTTTTEEERR!" he screamed, and then found himself on the floor crying. Crying. And then laughing. And then screaming.  
Who was Peter. Who was James?  
Who was Voldemort?  
What is my name?  
Who am I?  
What am I doing here?  
Everything was a blur. And these shadows of things gone past ... of people he didn't know but remembered ... flew in front of his face. Everything fell into place for instances and he'd scream, remembering he was the cause for James's death.  
And then he'd forget again.  
He'd forget himself.  
He was just a little boy.  
Or was he even that.  
He was just a thing. Somewhere. Sometime. And nothing registered with him.  
He tugged at his chains.  
And he hit his head against the floor.  
Make them stop! Make this feeling stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!  
BAM!  
"AAAAA!"  
BAM!  
"NOOOO!"  
BAM!  
And then peace. Blackness. Silence.  
But the nightmares remained, lurking in the dark.  
  
November 1st. Peter had woken knowing what had happened. He had made himself comfortable in an inn in London, and had decided to make the rest of his trek to the country the following day. Sirius would never know where he was.  
Oh, how he had been wrong.  
BAM!  
Pavement exploded all around him in a frenzy of concrete and wires. Into the sewers he fell, his hands behind his back, and screaming in pain. He cut off his finger as he fell into the ground, farther and farther and farther.  
Now the night sky shone down upon him. Through the hole of an unknown manhole above him that he had scurried to, he could see the moon. It was almost full. And he thought of himself thinking of Remus.  
He would never see Remus again.  
Or James.  
But James had bullied him. James had always been the smart one with the pretty girl and the perfect family. He deserved what he got. He thought too much of himself. And so did Lily.  
"What have I done," he whispered, coming out of rat form and settling down next to the damp water rushing through the tunnel of iron and concrete tubes, "What have I done."  
James was gone because of him. He remembered He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named towering over him, demanding to know or he'd kill him.  
"I have given you everything you could dream of!" the Dark Lord had said, "And you are becoming a nuisance. You shall do as I say or I will kill you without another thought about it."  
And so Peter had told him.  
"What have I done," he whispered again, "What have I done."  
  
Privet Drive was a quiet street. All had been well the following day, and everything had gone well (as it always did) with the families that lived on the small road leading the suburbs almost exactly identical to their own. One of these houses was especially normal and prim and proper. For a woman by the name of Petunia Dursley lived there, enraveled in her own grief from the loss of her parents and the hatred towards her only living relative: her sister.  
It had been months since they had spoken. Or had it been years? It didn't matter to her. She despised her sister. For all she cared she could be dead.  
And sadly, her sister had died.  
The morning of November the Second arrived with a quiet sunrise. The cars outside the houses started up to go into town and begin their day of work. Petunia's husband was on his way out the door when he realized there was something laying in the middle of his path.  
It was sleeping quietly and soundly, wrapped up in a small bundle and accompanied by a note that was written in sparkling ink. Upon reading the note, he called inside for his wife, Petunia. Petunia arrived outside and upon seeing the little bundle, screamed.  
For she had recognized the black hair. And as soon as the little boy opened his eyes, she recognized the green eyes.  
They were her sister's.  
All of this was seen from a lamppost across the street. Frank was standing, not seen, under an invisibility cloak. Dumbledore had asked him to wait to make sure that all went well. And it certainly had taken a turn for the worse.  
Well, James, Frank thought to himself, At least he's alive and safe.  
He imagined James standing next to him, saying something or other about how his son would be as strong as his father, and how he would do anything to be alive right now.  
Yes, I know, James, Frank said, You were a good father to him. We both were. We tried to protect our children, but sometimes the world has different plans.  
James then would have said something about how he didn't care if the world had different plans, he would change them if they didn't suit him.  
"So would I," Frank sighed, and leaned against the lamppost, "So would I."  
Neville was alive. That ... over there, across the street ... that was Harry. Not his son. Neville was safe.  
And he would die before letting that fact be changed.  
James would then have shrugged and then said some smart remark about how he would as well.  
"Harry Potter," Frank sighed again, turning away from the house that was now filled with shrieking and commotion, "The boy who lived." 


	115. Chapter 114: The Murderer Sirius Black

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
Remus stood quietly behind the rest of the Order members as they gathered together in Dumbledore's office. He again was detatched from the group around him. The words of the old Headmaster kept running through his head. That morning in November had been so beautiful. And the people that he had loved had never seen that sunrise. They had been cold and dead for hours by the time the dawn came.  
"There was a conflict last night," Dumbledore had told him, "And I wanted to get to you before the Bowlers did."  
"What sort of conflict?"  
"The Potters are dead."  
And then later on, "Sirius betrayed us all."  
And then still later on after that, "Mr. Black murdered Peter two hours ago, along with a good number of bystanders."  
The three of them were gone. Dead to him. And Lily ... Lily, the girl who befriended him before the others even knew his name ...  
The imagined scenario of James and Lily holding Harry close to their hearts and Voldemort pounding them into the ground ... with Sirius laughing behind him. Sirius, dark and with those eyes ... laughing.  
"You fools! You trusted me!"  
He had walked out on them. That night, when they were trying to figure everything out, he had taken his leave without another thought. He sure showed them. Now they were dead. And he would never see them again.  
He showed nothing on his face. Throughout the entire visit with Dumbledore, he had kept stone faced. He hadn't shown any sort of stress at all. But as soon as the Headmaster had left, the wolf threw him outside and had tortured him. All of the visions of them as boys and Lily in her prime came through his head. They were all dead!  
Only he remained.  
Now he was truly alone.  
And Peter. Peter had gone after Sirius. Peter had been a true friend. Why hadn't they chosen Peter!? What had Peter ever done to be suspected! The one person that James had trusted and sung the praises of and would have died for ...  
He had killed James.  
The meeting that they were attending would be their last one. The Order was to close down all operations and spend their time witnessing the trials and hearings that would follow the end of this war. But Remus couldn't concentrate. He never could concentrate anymore.  
Guilt ran through him. What would have happened if he hadn't left that night? What if that evening that they were all gathered round in that small living room ... he had stayed and had told them what he knew now. He had felt it in his heart that Sirius was truly the culprit. He had known all along. Who else could it had been? But he was too busy worrying about his own problems and his own life that he didn't care enough to save James'.  
He remembered what James had said to him. Once on a train ride to somewhere or other James had stopped him from leaving the compartment, and he warned him then. He warned him that he was going to end up all alone in the world if he continued his actions. Remus hadn't listened. And now he was alone.  
Completely alone.  
"The Potters fought and died with honor," Dumbledore said, with a strong stature behind his desk, "We close this last meeting in their memory. And we hope for a better tomorrow. Not only for our children, but for theirs."  
With that, the Order raised their goblets high in the air, and Dumbledore's shining eyes caught sight of a very dark Remus Lupin towards the back of the crowd. Lupin wasn't looking at any of his fellow members. He was hardly in the room with them at that time. He was far away, to better days of jovial boyhood games and long dead sunsets. He was many years away from them all.  
"Let us not go and live life in vain," Dumbledore said, continuing to look upon that haunted boy, "Let us live every moment, every waking hour in the memories of those who have fallen. For they died so that we may live. Let us never forget that."  
Remus, feeling the Headmaster's eyes upon him, shifted his gaze to the old man, now bearing down upon him. Into those livewire eyes behind the half moon glasses.  
"Live for Harry," a voice echoed through his head, "For one day, he will need you more than you can fathom."  
Remus blinked, and Dumbledore winked. Lupin looked away, without raising his glass. He didn't care much about Harry. He wanted Harry's father alive. He wanted Harry's mother.  
He didn't care whether or not Harry was alive himself. But James ...  
"Here is to tomorrow's dawn," Dumbledore said, taking a drink of his goblet, and the Order followed.  
There was a strong silence that followed afterwards. Remus left as soon as he could. He wished not to talk to Dumbledore in secret. He didn't want sympathetic looks from the rest of the room. He didn't want anything. He wanted to be left alone.  
Therefore it was no surprise that Moody and Frank couldn't find Lupin when the three of them were called to speak to Albus quickly.  
Dumbledore gave Frank a piece of parchment, and patted him on the back, "The gaoler is waiting for you at the entrance of the prison. Make it quick. Get only the information we need. Nothing more. No condolences. No vengeance. Sirius Black has been given his punishment. He needs no more."  
"We're leaving as soon as we can," Moody informed Dumbledore, and quickly turned away. His eye had stopped swiveling, and he hadn't spoken more than ten words since the deaths Halloween night. Frank watched his partner with curiosity and sympathy as Moody hobbled through the crowd and slammed the door behind him. Frank sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and bowed to Dumbledore.  
"Albus," he said, "I was thinking ..."  
"Thinking is a very broad verb, Longbottom," Dumbledore said, laughing sadly.  
Frank let a smile escape, and then sighed again, "Well, I've been going over the evidence found at the crime scene, and it doesn't add up. All of the explosion marks came from the hole where Pettigrew fell. That makes sense. But what doesn't add up is that that's where the magic is mostly condensed. Now, there is a possibility that Sirius ... Mr. Black ... threw some sort of Hurling Spell towards Pettigrew, making the impact more profound. Instead of beginning the spell at his own wand, he timed the spell so it exploded in its entirety when it hit his opponent. But I don't believe that Black knew this sort of spell. It's a fairly new trick. I mean, I have problems with it. Moody doesn't even know it exists. And most of the spells he learned came from Moody ..."  
"What are you saying, Frank," Dumbledore said, quietly, drawing in nearer so the others couldn't overhear their words.  
"I'm saying that maybe something more happened that what we anticipated," Frank said, "It doesn't add up. The witnesses' stories, the entire Fidelus Charm, the history of some of the parties involved ... it doesn't really settle with me."  
"Are you proposing that Black is innocent?" Dumbledore said in a hushed tone.  
"Albus, both you and I know that Sirius and James were closer than most blood brothers," Frank said, "They would have died for each other. Sirius would have given anything to make sure that that man made it through the war. It doesn't make sense that he would have ... I mean ..." he faltered, and Dumbledore set his hand upon Frank's strong shoulders that were now sagging.  
"Frank," he said, "Nothing adds up in times like these. Good becomes evil, and evil," he looked over Frank's head to a certain potions master celebrating wryly with the rest of the Order Members, "Evil becomes good. The world turns and twists into so many different patterns that one cannot see straight. Evil can corrupt even the greatest and noblest of hearts. Sirius Black was tempted, and he did not have enough willpower to resist. And due to this, we have lost two of our greatest souls."  
"I know, Headmaster," Frank said, "But I ..."  
"I am completely sure that Black was the perpetrator for the crimes he was accused of," Dumbledore said, "And I will never think anything else."  
Frank went to turn away, but Dumbledore caught his arm and drew him closer. Then quietly, he muttered, "Only the words of Sirius could tell me differently."  
A small vile dropped into Frank's pocket, and Dumbledore patted it to make sure that his friend knew where it lay. Frank nodded, and then Dumbledore shoved him off to the door to follow Moody.  
They were to go to Azkaban.  
  
The cell was very small. It was black. He knew that much. He could tell that. Oh, yes, it was very small. And very black.  
He sat in the corner, not moving from his spot. His very small and black spot.  
Black.  
What an interesting word.  
What a very interesting and familiar word.  
What did Black mean to him.  
"It's ... it's your n-name," he said, rubbing his elbows and rocking back and forth on his knees. It was his name. Black was his name.  
Small and Black.  
Small and Black.  
Small and Black and Cold and Dirty and Frightening.  
And somewhat ... familiar.  
"Black," he whispered, "Black."  
It was cold. Too cold. The only light cascaded through an iron bar window right above his head. But he couldn't concentrate on the light. He could only concentrate on the black. Outside of the black came the darkness. The emptiness of the demons outside of his iron door. The demons stood there in the darkness. They stood there and fed off of his soul. They fed often. There were three now, outside his cell. Feeding off of his fear.  
Off of his emptiness.  
One of the demons ... what were they called again ... those black and frightening shadows of death and hate ... the demons ... they looked at him ... right in his eyes ... from behind their large and black hoods, their black faces that were behind the black shadows ... those demons looked at him ... they looked right at him.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" he screamed and fell back into the blackness.  
The blackness.  
Black.  
A wolf, running down a tunnel. Right towards a boy with a hooked nose. Another boy with round black glasses and mussed hair ran towards the hooked nose boy. The black glasses shoved the hooked nose out of the way, and the wolf ...  
The wolf mauled the black glasses. Broke the black glasses. Blood flew from the dark blackness of the black tunnel.  
Black blood.  
The glasses boy was named James. James.  
He remembered James.  
He had killed James.  
James had been killed by Peter.  
James had been killed by Voldemort.  
James had been killed by Sirius Black.  
Sirius Black.  
That black demon. The true demon of the shadows. The true black demon of the war. The true villian. The true shadow of death that brought the end of all around him. The downfall of the Order was his. The downfall of Voldemort was his. The downfall of James. Of Lily. Of Remus. Of Peter.  
Sirius Black.  
How he would kill Sirius Black if he could just find him. How he would kill that demon of all demons if he ever met him. If he ever could see him. Sirius Black must be somewhere here in the cells. In the darkness. He would find him and he would wrap his dirt-ridden fingers around his white neck and not let go until the Black was gone. Until it was interrupted by the purples and the blues and the grays of dying skin and veins. And then darkness. Not blackness. No, darkness.  
Now if he could just find Black. If he could just find Sirius Black.  
He put one hand forward in the blackness of the small and black cell as he lay twitching on the cold stone ground of his small and black cell. His small and black cell outlined his old hand. Had it always been that old? He was only ... what was his age ... who was he ... he was ...  
Sirius Black.  
HE was Sirius Black! He would kill him! He had found him! He had found ...  
The demon stared at him again.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAA!" Sirius screamed again and clawed at his head until his torn nails broke skin and his own blood trickled down his face. He could taste his own blood. He would get them out of his mind! He would stop those demons from reading his thoughts and feeling his emotions! He would ...  
They were feeding off of his anger.  
They were ...  
James was dead.  
James was dead.  
James.  
"JAMES!"  
And then clarity. One moment of clarity. One single second of clarity.  
  
"He's right in here," the jailer said, shoving the three dementors away from the door. Moody glared at the dementors as the two men kept their distance. They both chewed on their own bars of chocolate. They had been here many times. They were now professional on how to deal with the feeling of the happiness. The lack of fulfillment. The emptiness.  
"Here you are," the man with the ice said, and then walked inside to wake the prisoner. Frank felt his stomach fall deep into the pits of his soul. He couldn't do this. He knew he was innocent. He just knew it. He couldn't trust humanity ... any humanity ... if he wasn't innocent. Sirius Black ... kill James Potter ...  
Moody led the way into the smaller cell as the jailer threw the prisoner to his feet. Frank wouldn't have recognized Sirius if he hadn't known ahead a time who the man was. The eyes of this monster weresunken in, and highlighted by the dark sags underneath the lids. The skin was pale and the color of paste. The brows were furrowed in a permanent frown, and the eyes looked upward, lolling about in their sockets as they blinked slowly like a drunk man. The mouth continously convulsed from a frown to a small sly grin. A grin of a man that knew something the world didn't. A grin of a man who had outsmarted all odds, gotten away with everything, and finally at the end had been nipped in the ass by judgement and punishment. His cheekbones were seen, and made his face somewhat resemble that of a skeleton's. His hair was caked with blood, and one of his eyes was swollen to the size of a small plum. Whiskers grew on his once gentlemanlike face, and his facial hair that had been there the last time Frank had seen him (which had been months ago) was growing into a tangled mess. He drooled from the corner of his mouth, and from the back of his throat, the barking sounds of laughter came oh so quietly.  
His hands shook. And his head lolled as his eyes did. Back and forth. Drunk with madness.  
Sirius Black was not right in the head.  
Both men could tell.  
Frank was so preoccupied with their host (who was now trying to balance himself on the ledge of the window) that he didn't hear the jailor shut the door behind them and return to the prison duties. The dementors were now down the corridor, and was not a both to either of them. But Sirius was still affected. He obviously had lost his mind. His mannerisms were different. His face. His posture. It was all twisted and darkened by what he had been through and what he had done.  
While Frank felt pity for this creature, Moody felt contempt.  
He backhanded Black with his right hand, and Black fell to the ground, laughing and rubbing his cheek where Moody had socked him.  
"Oh, it hurt him more than that when he was murdered," Black said, the whites of his eyes now only seen, "It hurt him much more than that. He screamed. He screamed for his baby boy. His little baby boy that would live. His damn little ..."  
Moody hit him hard across the head, and Black fell again to the ground. Frank grabbed Moody's arm and pulled him back.  
"No vengeance," Frank whispered to his friend, "Remember what Dumbledore said."  
"Damn Albus," Moody growled, "I'll give this turncoat justice if I want to."  
"We're here to question you, Mr. Black," Frank said, the syllables of the formalities towards this man alien to his tongue. Mr. Black laughed, more like cackled, and then arched his back so his spine could be seen through his thin coat. He then howled at the glowing moon outside of the barred window. Then he went to clamber onto the ledge. He smiled that sly secretive smile as his eyes strayed from one side of the cell to the other, and then to the ceiling. His mouth hung open, and the saliva drooled down his cheek in a steady pace.  
"He's dead," he cried out, "he's dead. He killed him. He killed him. I killed him. I killed him! I KILLED HIM! I KILLED HIM! I ..."  
BAM!  
In a split second, Moody had grabbed Sirius by the collar and shoved him up against the iron bars of the window. He then slammed the murderer's head into the bars, over and over again. Blood began to stain the iron, but Moody didn't stop. And Sirius didn't stop laughing.  
Frank watched this in horror before running forward and grabbing Moody. He pulled the two men apart, and Sirius fell to the floor, laughing. Cackling. Still laughing.  
"I killed him," Sirius laughed, looking at Moody, "I killed them all. I killed James. I killed Lily. I could have killed Harry ..."  
"YOU DAMN LITTLE TRAITOR!" Moody lunged forward. Frank had never seen him out of control like this before.  
"But you know who really killed us, oh gracious teacher," Sirius chortled as he wiped his mouth free of spit, "You. You got us into t-this. You gracious loving teacher you. I remember you, yes I do. None of us will die with your gracious t-training. None of us. Not a single solitary one ..."  
Moody's eyes grew almost as dark as Sirius's, and Frank had to yank him back again. Alastor was going to kill Black. He was going to murder him.  
"Maybe you should leave, Mad Eye," Frank said, coaxing him towards the cell door, "I think it may work better if I did this by myself."  
"I killed them," Sirius guffawed, and Moody shook himself free of Longbottom. He stared Black dead on with both eyes, swiveling and natural, and he gave him a glare of complete hate. Hate like he had never felt.  
The only words that escaped from his mouth were, "He trusted you."  
"I know!" Sirius chortled, barking with laughter, "That was his mistake, now wasn't it!"  
Moody turned away, and stormed out of the cell. He would not wait for Frank, but walk back to the boat by himself. And then he would leave that prison without his partner. He would leave and not be heard from for a good two days. He had enough chocolate to withstand the trip. He needed the chocolate. Those dead killer eyes. Those murderous eyes. They had seen the Potters' dead corpses.  
Frank saw the shadow of Moody disappear, and he faced Sirius once again. There had to be some sort of trace of the man he knew months ago before he had gone into hiding. Some sort of mannerism. Some sort of sign to indicate that this truly was the gung ho warrior that had fought alongside him for years. The same smiling boy that had signed the contract with so much spirit that Frank had been jealous of him. That boy who had proven them all wrong.  
But no. It was just the shell of a murderer. A man who had lost all and had nothing else to lose or gain. He was at the end of a long line of lies and deaths.  
"Sirius, do you recognize me?" he asked quietly, sitting down next to the prisoner. Sirius didn't respond. He sat there, staring off into space. At a ghost that Frank could never be haunted by.  
Frank took Sirius's bloody hand, and squeezed it. He then felt through his robes for the vile that Dumbledore had placed in one of his pockets. He found it, and popped the cork out of the mouth of the vile.  
"You have to come back to us," Frank said, pouring the liquid down the man's throat, "For James, you have to tell me the truth."  
Sirius felt the cold liquid fall down his throat. And even less clarity came to him. Even less of his own sanity stayed with him.  
Frank saw the man grow quiet and still, and his eyes grow to stone. Frank held Sirius's hand tighter, and then took a breath.  
"Sirius Black, do you recognize my voice?" he whispered, as if the dementors could hear him through the bars.  
"Yes," he muttered, in the little bit of calmness that he had left in his soul. The little bit of serenity he had felt since that night of Halloween.  
"Will you answer me truthfully during this questioning?"  
"Yes."  
Frank only had to ask one question. Just one question and he would be proven right or wrong. Then Dumbledore would have his evidence. Then Moody would know. Then Lily and James could rest in peace.  
"Sirius Black," he said, holding the cold hand tighter, "Were you responsible for the deaths of Lily and James Potter?"  
There was a pause, as if Sirius was contemplating this question in his own mind. As if the battle was raging not outside this cell, but inside this man. It was a long time before Mr. Black could decide on his answer. And the answer would be recorded for years to come. Not only in the history books. Not only in the Ministry records. But in the minds of all who had known him in his prime. The minds of all who had thought Sirius Black was something of greatness.  
The cold, dark, and blackened man whispered a resounding, "Yes." 


	116. Chapter 115: The Best of Them All

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
The trials continued on regularly the next week. They were the gossip of the country. All of the Death Eaters and supporters were brought forth, one by one (sometimes in groups) to sit before Mr. Crouch and his committee. The Order Members were represented at each and every one of them.  
Some of them were memorable, like the Quidditch Player who had been found guilty. Then there were the Bulgarian Trials. And then the less important ones, as in the Malfoy's case and the Nott's case. They were let off within moments of being seated before the Wizengamot. But many went without trial. Many who had already been found guilty in the minds and hearts of society were cast out as dead souls. No one ever heard a word from them again. Their words were breathed with the same fear that once carressed the syllables of "Voldemort." And Remus never saw Sirius Black cross the aisle to be seated in front of Mr. Crouch. He never laid eyes on that man again. Nor did he want to. Remus had been asked to attend a few trials. This day, an unknown Death Eater that went by some name he hadn't recognized was seated for judgement. Frank and Moody sat close together, in the same vicinity as the others. They did not speak. Frank had given back the report of that day in Azkaban. He had no more thoughts of innocence towards Black. Just hate. Complete hate.  
Remus had heard the story from three sources. Frank had come, somewhat misheveled by his findings, the night that he visited Remus's old school friend. He had relayed the story to Remus, even if Remus really hadn't wanted to hear it. And then he had heard another version from Hagrid. And yet another version from Dumbledore. But all of the versions ended the same: Sirius Black had killed James Potter.  
That's all he needed to know.  
That's all he cared to know.  
Frank thought all of this over in his head with the same anger as Remus as they watched the Wizengamot decide on the final verdict.  
"Get your mind where it belongs, boy," Moody growled, and Frank sighed. Moody hadn't spoken of Black since the Azkaban visit. And he doubted if he ever would again.  
He looked past Moody to the young Lupin boy. The stature of this strong individual had changed so much. He saw the little shaking child the boy once was.  
Frank remembered the first time Dumbledore had pointed Lupin out to him. Remus had only been a second year, and quite unaware that he was already being watched for potential Order material. Frank had been with Dumbledore during a quick stroll through the grounds, and he had seen at least thirty children that the Headmaster was watching. Finally, they came upon a little mousy blonde skeleton of a human being. He was much smaller than the others. Much weaker. He was different, he had known.  
"Why him?" Frank asked Dumbledore. All of the other children had been limber and able and intelligent. But this boy was so different from that. He was weak.  
"He possesses a heart of courage, Longbottom," Dumbledore explained, "He has seen more terror than either you or I ever will. He has fought with himself, the greatest enemy of them all. And he has conquered and lived. That is why."  
Frank had been silent as he watched the boy read a Defense Against the Dark Arts book by the lake, and Dumbledore had patted him on the back.  
"One who can conquer themselves can conquer anything, Longbottom," he said, "And therefore, Remus will make a very well rounded canidate for the Order."  
That shaking boy had grown into a strong spirited soldier. And Frank had seen Remus in action. He had fought alongside all five of those children. And each one of them had been stronger than even he in a battle. But now he had seen the downfall of all of them. Their friendship and love had binded them together. It was the sinew that held the five hearts forever close to the others. But now they were all dead. Consumed by greed, hate, fear, and fate ... That sinew was gone. The binds had snapped. And now Frank looked upon a boy who didn't know where to turn to.  
From behind Remus's head, he could see the quick shadows of a group of black clothed teenagers. They stared at him for a moment, and then continued watching the trial. They looked oddly familiar.  
"Frank," Moody barked, and Frank jumped.  
"Alastor, I ..."  
"Stop staring at Lupin," Moody commanded, "You're making him even more nervous than he needs to be."  
Frank sighed, and looked back at the authoritative figure of Mr. Crouch.  
"You'd do good to get some sense in your head," Moody snorted, "You're still just a stupid boy."  
  
Alice had stayed up with Neville every night of the trials. She hadn't been to a single one in the past week, and was tired of her motherly duties. Neville was growing to be a very large and happy tot, now past his first year of life. He was walking by himself, and very content with the world around him. Somewhat clingy to his mother, but he was in love with life and life was in love with him. The happiness on his face reminded Alice of what she had been fighting for. What her past and gone days as an Auror had taught her of life and death. One person dies so another may live. That was the way of the world.  
Lily had died for Harry.  
She blinked, and shook her head as she did the laundry. Neville was "helping" her. They were both seated in the master bedroom, sorting the socks from the knickers and the knickers from the shirts. It was mechanical work for the mother. Her mind wandered when she did the housework. And she found it very dangerous to wander nowadays. Usually her mind found a nook or cranny that stored Lily's or James' face. And then she would pause, blink, and shake her head to try to rid herself of those thoughts.  
The last time she had seen Lily had been late in the spring. Her and Frank had left a long time before they had to go into hiding. The Potters were thriving and alive. Lily was a little scarred from her marriage, but all marriages had bumps and holes in them. Alice and Frank had had a few rough roads themselves. But overall, they had been quite happy. All of them had been so thriving. And now they were dead. Just a name on the wall behind the Auror offices at the Ministry.  
"Ma!" Neville shouted, and "Ma" looked to her baby angel to see what he wanted her to see. She saw her boy with two socks on his hands, bouncing up and down where he sat. She laughed, and took the socks from him. Neville laughed, and Alice looked at the socks.  
"You know," she said, "We could make puppets out of these and magic them to dance."  
Neville laughed.  
It sounded like Harry's laughter.  
She shook her head again, and dug her hand into her night robe pocket. There was some bubble gum pieces stored away. Ever since she had gone into hiding, she had acquired a nasty habit of eating when she became nervous. After realizing that this probably wasn't very good for her figure or her health, she decided to chew something of low fat and no substance: bubble gum. She unwrapped a piece, and popped it in her mouth.  
Neville grabbed for the paper that was still in her hand, and she let him have the wrapping. He sat, mystified at the bubble gum wrap for a moment. It was a daily ritual for them. An unspoken token between mother and son. Alice smiled sadly as she watched her son discover the smallest thing in the world: a paper.  
Then she went back to sorting.  
"Frank, are you going to come to bed anytime tonight?" she asked of her husband who was standing in Neville's nursery across the hall.  
There was no answer.  
"Frank, dear, are you alive in there?"  
She had slipped up. She caught herself, but it was too late. The remark stung both of them, and she shook her head again. Of course he was alive. They both were alive.  
"I was thinking," Frank said, coming out of the nursery and appearing in the bedroom's doorway, "Of the case."  
"What case?" Alice asked, finishing the last of the laundry and taking Neville in her arms. He squealed with delight.  
"The Black case," Frank said, and Alice froze. Sirius Black. Why did Frank have to always bring him up?  
"What about it?" Alice asked, and Frank, eyes still focused on the rug, stroked his chin in deep thought.  
"Peter was running after Sirius, right?" he said aloud. Alice nodded.  
"That seems to be the story."  
"Well then," Frank said, walking into the room and sitting down next to his wife and son, "Why was he in a corner?"  
"What?" Alice asked, not following.  
"Peter. The hole. His finger. It was backed into a corner. Sirius Black was found at the scene, facing the hole, and facing the corner. But he wasn't in the corner," Frank shifted to face his wife, and he demonstrated the movement with his hands, "Now if you were chasing after someone, and was on the offense of wanting to kill them ... as Peter was ... then how would you get backed into a corner, with the defense trapping you?"  
"Sirius was always stronger than Peter," Alice said, placing the laundry basket on the floor.  
"No, it still doesn't make sense," Frank said, "Sirius is walking down the street, Peter spots him. Peter runs after him. Peter should have cornered him, and then the street should have been blown to bits. Not the alleyway. Not the sewers. There is no possible way that Sirius could have trapped Peter in that space unless ..."  
There was a pause as a look of realization came over Frank's face. Alice waited for more to come. When none did, she prodded her husband back into reality.  
"Unless what?" she asked.  
Frank's hands dropped, and he smiled defiantly, "Unless it was he who was chasing Peter. Unless ... unless Peter ... wasn't on the offense. Unless Peter was the one being pursued."  
"Well, why would Sirius have pursued Peter? That makes no sense!"  
"Well, why would Peter have pursued Sirius?" Frank said, jumping to his feet, "For revenge. Now does Peter seem like the revenge type, Alice?"  
"Not that I have ..."  
"No, he isn't," Frank said, "He's more of the cuttail and run type. But Sirius. Oh, Sirius lives for vengeance. Sirius would have dedicated his life to James' murderer. Alice, it all fits in! It all makes sense! Sirius Black is innocent, Alice! I knew it!"  
"Frank, he gave a testimony himself," Alice sighed, standing up and walking out of the room to the nursery, "He said himself that he killed them."  
"But everything else pieces together!" Frank protested, "Alice, you know those gut feelings I get?"  
"Yes, Frank, dear."  
"Well, this is one of them. I feel like ... well, Alice, I had a dream the other night. And James was here. And he was screaming Peter's name. He was screaming his name."  
"It's your imagination."  
"No," Frank said, "It was real. I can't explain it, but ... I have to get a hold of Dumbledore."  
"You will do no such thing," Alice said, coming out of the nursery, "That poor man has already too much on his mind without a recollection of all your theories and dreams weighing in on him. Just leave him alone. The murderer has been caught. They're dead. There's nothing more we can do."  
"Yes, but ..."  
"No buts, Frank," Alice sighed, and shoved him back into the bedroom, "Let their souls rest in peace. Let Black get what he deserves. You have a life. You have a family. Now enjoy your life and stop worrying about theirs."  
Frank sighed, and Alice brushed past him to the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck, and then looked nervously at the door, "I'll ... I'll be back in a bit. I'm just going to go down to the kitchen."  
"What for?"  
"To think! Is that all right? Just to think!"  
He made his way down the stairs, and his bare feet touched the linoleum of the kitchen. He sighed, and rubbed his eyes. James was dead.  
He never thought it would have hurt him this deep. He couldn't even look at Alice and Neville without seeing Lily and Harry. It could have easily been Neville. If Voldemort had just made one different decision, started walking in a different direction ... it could have been Neville.  
He sat down at the table and buried his head in his hands. What was he going to do. What was he going to tell Neville when he got older and asked why Harry's parents were dead?  
There was a quiet sound from outside. Probably the neighbor's Kneazle back for more knomes in their yard. Frank wanted to kill that stupid animal ...  
"FOR THE DARK LORD!"  
A fireball exploded through the kitchen window, and a few inches from his face. He jumped up, and grabbed his wand out of his pocket. His eyes scanned where the fireball had come from, and he peered into the bushes.  
Then he saw them.  
The children.  
The four teenagers from the Wizengamot Trials.  
The first was very profound in stature. He was dark haired, with white skin. Just like the boy who stood next to him. He had seen these children before. In a field. With a bride.  
The bride, a gothic face bordered by wild hair and accented with even wilder eyes stood by her groom. And behind them, shivering like a lost rat was a boy he had only met once.  
Bartemus Crouch, Jr.  
The son of Crouch.  
He had gone to the child's thirteenth birthday celebration years before, with a few of the other Order Members. The last time he had seen this prodigal son he had been dressed in a dress robe and gel tamed his now wild hair.  
The four of them stood, glaring at Frank. And for the first time, Frank felt fear.  
  
"ALICE!"  
Alice awoke from her sleep and jolted out of bed. She reached for her wand on the nightstand, and ran to the door. It was Frank's voice. It was Frank screaming her name. Just like in her nightmares.  
"TELL US WHERE THE DARK LORD IS!" a young girl's voice sounded from the kitchen. Two males could be heard laughing.  
Alice froze, and cracked the door open enough to look outside and down the stairs. She couldn't stop herself from screaming silently. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at her husband, on the ground, writhing in pain. The veins in his face were popping from underneath the skin, and his eyes were flying out of the sockets. His teeth were clenched, and his hands were balled into fists. His skin was a complete shade of red.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLIIIIIICCCCEEEEE!" he howled.  
"Get the wife," a boy told a smaller boy, "Bring her down here."  
"WHAT DID THE POTTER BOY DO TO THE DARK LORD!" the girl demanded, "WHAT DID THE PROPHECY READ?"  
"ALICE!" Frank screamed again.  
Alice heard the footsteps of the second boy creeping up the stairs. There was nothing she could do but run. She had to save Neville. She had to get to her little boy.  
She stepped out in the hallway, and pointed her wand at the child.  
"Avada ..."  
"CRUCIO!" The girl said from the bottom of the steps, and she felt the spell hit her in her chest, working its way through her body and into her brain. She fell to the ground, twisting and shrieking in pain.  
"ALICE!" Frank shouted, not seeing Alice. Not realizing Alice was there.  
"Now your wife will die as well, because of your stupidity," the first boy said, "Do you really want to see her in pain, Frank? Do you really want to see your son die?"  
What was it that Remus Lupin always muttered before going into battle? What was it that he always whispered to himself? What were those words! If only Frank could think of them now! If only he could savor them and hold onto them.  
"Je ne ... Je ne mourrai ..." he gasped for air, and the girl hit him again with another dose of the curse. He fell in agony again, and caught a glimpse of his wife. His wife was falling down the stairs, next to him. To fall right next to him. He was going to die beside her.  
"Je ne mourrai pas," he whispered, this little bit of comfort given to him gave him strength.  
"CRUCIO!" the girl said again.  
"Bellatrix, maybe you should give them a chance to ..."  
"SHUT UP, CROUCH!" Bellatrix shrieked, "THIS IS MY MOMENT OF GLORY! DO NOT INTERRUPT ME!"  
And then she hit him again. And then she hit her again.  
And then him.  
And her.  
"CRUCIO!"  
Frank stared at his wife. His beautiful wife. He loved her with all of his heart. They would die together. They would ...  
Neville.  
He could hear Neville crying from upstairs. There was a boy upstairs. They both realized this at the same moment. The second boy was with their son. He was going to kill him.  
Frank looked to his wife for strength, and she looked to him. They spoke without words, and then deciding silently, began to fight the spell. If it drove them to the ends of insanity, they would save their son. They would save Neville.  
He would not die.  
"CRUCIO!"  
Frank screamed as he convulsed closer and closer to the stairs. He had to get to his feet. He had to run to his son. Alice pushed him in the right direction as her arm fought her back.  
"CRUCIO!"  
He believed that he made it halfway up the stairs before the last bit of sanity ran out. He remembered for years to come that last moment, when he saw his wife and her blonde hair. And he saw the corridor leading up to his son's bedroom.  
And he heard the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange.  
And it was at that moment.  
That it all went  
Black.  
  
The scene was desolate when Remus entered. The entire house of the Longbottoms had been untouched except for a broken window in the kitchen. Most of everything had been cleared out by the time he arrived.  
He expected Frank to meet him at the front door and tell him what had happened. He had come up with a scenario of Alice holding Neville, scared out of her mind but not letting on. And Frank sitting there, crossing his arms and shaking his head at what some hooligans had done to his new windowpane. But he could tell from the atmosphere inside the house, that something else had happened.  
"The Dark Lord shall rise again!" an arrested witch screamed as she disappeared into a Ministry car outside in the driveway. Remus gave her an odd look as he made his way into the living room, only to find the normality of wizarding life.  
A couch, a chair, a table. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. So why were people crowded everywhere, snapping photos and collecting evidence? Where were the Longbottoms?  
He heard Neville Longbottom crying from the floor above, and since that was the only noise, he decided to follow it. So he climbed up the steps, past the Aurors and Ministry officials, and into the nursery. There Neville could be seen, in the arms of Emmeline. She tried to hush him as much as she could. But to no avail, she couldn't.  
"Here," Remus said, holding out his arms instinctively, "Give him to me."  
Emmeline smiled sadly at Lupin, and handed him the baby. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to pretend that this bundle in his arms was Harry. But the bundle was larger. More matured. Fatter.  
More spoiled.  
It wasn't Harry.  
"Lupin!"  
Remus looked to the entrance of the nursery to come face to face with Kingsley and Moody. Moody said nothing, but Kingsley motioned for him to follow the two of them.  
"Bring the kid," he said forcefully, and Remus agreed.  
Outside they went, where a large white vehicle was now sitting in the driveway. Remus hadn't noticed it on the way into the house. The side of the Muggle car read "ST. MUNGO'S."  
The back seat was open, and Remus could see feet protruding from behind the door, bare feet touching the pavement. The patient was still in her nightgown, and was rocking back and forth, humming to herself.  
It wasn't until he grew closer to the vehicle that he recognized the St. Mungo's patient.  
"Alice ..." he moaned, in awe. The strong woman was now staring off into space, lost to the world. Her hair greyed by the horrors of that night.  
"This is how we found her," Kingsley explained, "We're trying to snap her out of the shock. We thought maybe you could coax her out of it. You're a lot better at this sort of stuff than the rest of us."  
"Sort of stuff ..." Remus trailed off.  
"You're the Bowler, dammit, just do it," Moody said gruffly, and he turned away as if it pained him to look at Alice any longer.  
Neville was still crying as Remus knelt down beside the shell of a woman. As soon as the baby saw his mother, he started to yearn for her arms. Remus, still supporting the boy, handed him over to his mother's lap. But Alice did not respond.  
"Alice, can't you see your son?" Remus whispered.  
Alice only looked through him with those worn eyes, to oblivion.  
Remus would forever be haunted by that stare.  
  
The white halls of St. Mungo's Mental Ward blinded Remus's eyes. He now sat in the chairs, waiting for the Healers to appear from behind the white curtains where the Longbottoms lay. They must have snapped out of it by now. Both of them.  
He wrung his hands together as Kingsley and Sturgis and Emmeline talked amongst themselves. He didn't feel like joining their small talk. And neither did Moody.  
Alastor had been sitting still for the past hour, only keeping his eyes on that curtain. Listening for any sounds of his old friend's recovery. But none came.  
He remembered the last thing he said to Frank. "Still that stupid boy."  
Remus sunk down in his chair, chewing at his lip. His arms were folded in his tattered robes as he tried to shut out everything. He remembered how Sirius could shut anything out that didn't agree with him.  
Sirius.  
It stung.  
Remus looked away, and back to the curtains. There was some whispered voices from behind the drapes. But they didn't sound like Alice or Frank. No, they were the Healers speaking of the diagnosis and the prognosis.  
It was a while later that the cold hard truth hit all of them square in the face. Alice and Frank would not be waking up. There was no shock to snap out of. They were gone. Worse than dead.  
The Healers showed the five of them to the two beds set next to each other. One housed Alice's dead body. And the other Frank's dead mask of a face.  
They both were breathing and their hearts were beating. But their spirits were gone. Their minds were a blank.  
Moody stood behind the rest of them as he continued to bore his swiveling eye through Frank's skull. He searched his brain for some sort of activity that was normal. Nothing. His partner was gone forever.  
The man had died.  
Remus couldn't look either of them in the eye. The haunting stare of Alice had been imprinted on his memories. And it gave him shivers as he stood there. The four younger members paid their last respects quietly, knowing that they would never see the fallen soldiers again. They had met their graves behind curtains at St. Mungo's, and they would never leave.  
Remus stood in front of Frank, looking down on a man he hardly knew. All that he could remember of that Auror was the undying stance. Shoulders back. Chin out. Eyes glaring at the world, daring anything and anyone to come and kill him. He had fought next to him on the battlefield, and they had bled together. But now, Remus stood above him.  
Slowly, as the man stared at his elder, Frank's body welded into another. The one of James.  
And Remus couldn't stand there anymore. He couldn't face it anymore.  
He couldn't take it anymore!  
So much death and destruction!  
He had to escape ... he had to run away ... he had to ...  
"Lupin!" Kingsley shouted after him as he tore out of the Ward. Emmeline and Sturgis followed him, and the three youngest visitors disappeared from the view of the Longbottoms (if they had been watching).  
Kingsley stood there for a few more minutes, and then told Moody in an icy tone that he would be heading back to the Ministry to file paperwork. Moody nodded, and Kingsley too exited the white room.  
This left Alastor alone with the living dead. Moody had never cried in his life. He had never even thought of doing so. And he wouldn't have then, not even for his partner.  
But he did falter. He did fail to catch his balance before losing control of his legs. But he caught himself as he fell towards the ground, and hoisted himself back to a standing position. He stood over Frank, next to his side. As always.  
And Moody took Frank's hand in his. Looking into the dead gray eyes of a man long gone, he smiled. And then, he shook the limp hand. It did not shake back. It did not feel the rough skin of another human's gesture.  
But he shook it anyways.  
"Here's to you, Longbottom," Moody said, his voice cracking, "The best of us all."  
He slowly let go of Frank's hand, and watched the pale fingers drop to hit the white sheets of his bed. And then, without looking back, Moody turned away from the husband and wife.  
And he let himself out of the white door. 


	117. Chapter 116: To Live

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR. READ: First off, I want to thank everyone who has been so supportive to "Forever Alive" throughout almost a year now. This is, indeed, the last chapter. Yet it is not finished. The Epilogue will be updated onto this site Wednesday, July 7, 2004, at midnight Eastern Standard Time. Sorry for the delay, life's been hectic. I will be willing to answer any questions about "Forever Alive" that you would want to ask. Also, I am thinking about starting a much shorter and condensed fanfiction story after the conclusion of this one. It will not be as long, and will take about a week to write. I was wondering if anyone would be interested in a Snape fic? If anyone has any other ideas, please post them with your questions. Just leave your queries and ideas/suggestions in your review of this chapter. All questions will be answered in a special "Reply to the Reviewers," posted on the review board one hour before the Epilogue is posted. Thank you for your support, yet again, and I hope that you will enjoy this last chapter of the Marauders' saga.)  
  
"Come on, Lupin!" James laughed as he ran down the hall. He was carrying his broomstick, "Put your money where your mouth is!"  
Remus laughed nervously as he was tugged along by Peter.  
"Come on! Hurry up! We're getting behind him! Let's go!" Peter prodded. Sirius laughed, and shoved the two younger runts forward.  
"Oh, I could do better," Sirius mocked Remus, "Better than you, James. Well, let's just see how well you do."  
James was still ahead of the four of them, and he paused for a moment as they rounded a corner. His face melted into what Sirius called the "Evans" look. Lily was here somewhere in the vicinity of the boys.  
"Evans! Hey, Evans!" James shouted as his three friends caught up with him. Remus saw the beautiful red locks of hair as he came to a halt. Sirius bumped into him. Sirius had been taller than him at the time.  
That would change in the years to come.  
"Potter," she said, but she didn't sound too thrilled with the exclamation.  
"Out to hex anyone today?" she asked, and James mussed his hair nervously.  
"No, just out to show Remus how to ride a broom," he said, waving a hand in Lupin's direction, "That's all."  
"Yeah, he reckons he can fly better than James here," Sirius chortled, and Remus turned a bright shade of red. Lily smiled, and her beautiful green eyes looked into the mousy brown ones of the little boy. His still blond hair was shoved into his eyes, and Lily gave him a smile. It was a nice smile. Not a flirting one, or one that reminded him of his mother's ... it was just a friendly smile.  
He forgot all about the broom. The next thing he knew, James was showing off for Peter and Sirius in the courtyard with his flying tricks, and he and Lily were sitting outside on the banisters. They watched James give two loops high in the air, and then swarm down to the ground going as fast as a hawk.  
"Why are you so quiet, Remus?" Lily asked. She was thirteen. A beautiful age to be. Still a little girl, but growing into a gentle and kind woman.  
"I ... I don't know," Remus stammered, giving her a shy look, "I've never been one for talking, I guess."  
Lily nodded, as if contemplating something, and then looked back up to the sky to where her future husband flew. Of course, she hadn't known this at the time. None of them had known what was to happen to them all. Peter dead. Sirius a traitor. James dead. And Lily ...  
Those green eyes would burn out sooner than expected.  
"Have you ever flown before?" Lily asked quietly, looking up to the man she would die with.  
"No," Remus said truthfully.  
"How come?"  
"I ... I'm ... well, I'm ..."  
"Scared?" Lily asked, looking at him again with those eyes. Remus nodded slowly, afraid even to admit it. Lily smiled again, and set her perfect pale hand on his rough shoulder.  
"Are you scared of everything?" she asked, as if discovering a new animal.  
"Yes, I guess. In a way. Isn't everyone, though?"  
"Are you scared of me?" she asked.  
"Somewhat."  
"Are you scared of James?"  
"I guess sometimes."  
"How about Sirius?"  
"When he gets angry."  
"And you," she asked, "Are you scared of yourself?"  
Remus felt his throat clench up. The wolf, just starting to form and take on a voice in his head, laughed from the bowels of his mind. He felt his breathing become shallow, and he looked back to the courtyard. Sirius was jumping around, hollering to the skies. Peter was wringing his hands together excitedly, as if he was picturing himself gloriously perched ontop of that broomstick high up in the clouds.  
"More than anything else," he muttered, and Lily's smile faded. There was no way that she could have understood or known of the beast lurking within. She didn't know that this tiny boy sitting next to her turned into a monster that grown men would have liked to kill. Or that he could kill grown men. Who knew. Maybe he had.  
But there was understanding in her green eyes. She understood him.  
"How come?" she asked again.  
"I'm not a good ..." he wanted to say person. But he couldn't use that word. He wasn't fit for that word. He wasn't a person.  
"I'm not what everyone sees," he whispered, and Lily set her silky hand underneath his chin, and directed his eyes to look at her. She had wisdom past her years.  
"Remus, you want to know what I see?" she said, and Remus nodded weakly. Her smile didn't return, but her face glew with happiness and truth as she spoke to him.  
"I see an amazing spirit. I see a boy who is good. Who is beautiful. I see someone who will grow to do great things. He just doesn't realize that yet," her hand fell back into her lap, and they both heard James land on the ground, "Don't ever forget that. You have a light in your eyes. Don't let it die."  
Remus nodded obediently.  
"Lupin! It's your turn!" Sirius said, shouting over to him as he walked across the grass, holding James' broom in his hands, "Come on! Let's see how well you ride!"  
Remus jumped off of the banister, and walked to Sirius. His good friend, Sirius. How it pained him now to remember.  
He reached for the broom, and Sirius didn't let go. Remus drew in nearer as Sirius leaned over him.  
"Tonight, right?" he said, "You go tonight?"  
"Yeah," Remus said quietly, "I do."  
"You want me to come?"  
"I'd kill you."  
"I know," Sirius said, unfaltering.  
Remus looked up at the boy who was struggling day and night to crack the code of the Animagus spells. He couldn't yet turn into a dog. Didn't he know the consequences of what he was proposing?  
"No, Sirius, you ..."  
"Do you want me to come, Remus."  
Remus shook his head, "No. I don't."  
And Sirius nodded. He understood.  
Sirius had been willing to die for his friends. Even at a young age. Even at the tender year of thirteen he had been willing to sacrifice his well being.  
So why had he turned?  
This memory still haunted him.  
"You want me to come?"  
"I'd kill you."  
"I know."  
Sirius Black. He had shown Voldemort to the door of the Potters. He had killed James. He couldn't believe it.  
That's what all the papers read.  
That's what the world told him.  
Sirius Black had killed James Potter.  
  
It seemed like the world had not only stopped, but it had ended as well. The eyes of Alice Longbottom haunted Remus to that moment. They stood for all that had gone and had been replaced by a façade of a life. He had found himself last night, looking up to the moon, and remembering those days in the shack. Yearning to have one more go at it. One more night with the four of them. So young. So ...  
Alive.  
And then he had remembered a memory that hadn't meant much to him at the time. It was funny how one forgets the most significant things and cherishes the most intricate details. It had been a night in fifth year, a few months after they had gotten used to their newly found powers. Moony and Padfoot had been wrestling on the ground. And Prongs had been watching from above his tall neck. Wormtail was squeaking around, shouting up at the larger dogs.  
It was that small memory that sparked tears in the creases of Remus's eyes. He hadn't cried for Sirius. But he did now.  
What had they not done to fulfill his life? Why had he done such a thing to James? Why the hell had he turned into what he had?  
When the morning had come that day, Remus had left the cabin with no intentions of going to the Wizengamot Trials of the afternoon. He was on another mission. He needed to let it out. It was pounding in his head. All of it.  
  
He turned the corner of the corridor of the school, and into a familiar classroom. Unfamiliar children sat in the same seats that his friends and him had sat in. The friends that had died such horrible deaths.  
And the one man that he thought he had known.  
How coud he have been so blinded by friendship and love and trust?  
He didn't even notice the old woman at the front of the classroom pause from her lecture, and give him that all too familiar look over her glasses. She sighed, checked her watch, and then turned to the children set in front of her.  
"Class dismissed for the day," she said, and the students grabbed their books and things and ran for the door, past the poker faced man in torn robes. He didn't even notice them.  
"Mister Lupin, I presume," Professor McGonagall said, setting her wand down upon the desk, "Fancy seeing you here."  
Remus jumped, and stepped farther into the room. He had a look of anxiety in his eyes and complexion. He wrung his hands together; an old habit that Professor McGonagall hadn't seen him do for years.  
"Professor," he said, coming closer, "I need a few minutes of your time, if you have it. I don't know when your next class is ..."  
"It's soon," his old teacher said, very confused, "Is there something wrong, Mister Lupin?"  
During his time here at Hogwarts, Remus had felt cared for by one teacher. The teacher he had almost killed in his dormitory room one night. The teacher who had told Dumbledore that she would risk her well being to accompany him once a month.  
"I ... I need someone to talk to," Remus said truthfully, "I know you're busy, but I really need to ... just talk. That's it."  
Professor McGonagall had never seen him like this. So angered. So upset. She took her wand in her hand, and with worried eyes, nodded sympathetically.  
"All right, Mister Lupin," she said, as the first student came filing into her classroom. She motioned towards her office door, and then turned to the student, "Amelia, you are in charge of the class until I return. I expect you to be on your best behavior."  
Amelia nodded, and the professor followed her old student into the back room.  
  
"Do you feel guilt?" Professor McGonagall asked him quietly as he took a seat in the chair across from her. He looked like the student again, ready to be taught a lesson by just another teacher of Hogwarts.  
"I don't know what I feel," Remus said. This was the first time he had spoken of such things. The first time he left his guard and let his secrets out. He couldn't even talk of these things with James ...  
James.  
"Losing a loved one is the hardest obstacle one faces," she said understandingly, "I have lost many in my lifetime. As will you in years to come."  
"Years to come," Remus huffed, "Professor, how many more years?"  
"What?" she asked.  
"How many more years do I have to endure this hell?" he begged of her, "All of it, banging against the inside of my skull! Professor, I was taught to stare death in the face and laugh. I was taught to face my monsters. To kill them. To do whatever I could to see their end. And I've tried! I've tried to keep a straight face! I've tried not to listen to him!"  
"Remus ... who ..."  
"But he's there! Pounding me into the ground. He knows I'll die before he does! And then what? Then I'm just a demon! I'm a monster! I was the one they pointed their finger at first! I was the one that James thought it was. I can imagine them, all standing around, going 'You know, that Lupin is unstable! We've known him for some odd years, and he's done nothing but try to maul us to pieces! To try to get us killed! He acts as if he has a good head on his shoulders! But no! He doesn't! He's just what Klien thought he was ...'"  
"Mister Lupin, you're not making any sense ..."  
"Someone told me once that I had a light. That under everything, I had a light. And she told me not to let it die. She told me that! And I listened! And I tried to continue to listen as the years wore on. But Professor, I have seen so much death! How can one live among death!? How can I continue to listen to Lily's voice about not dying when she IS dead!? When James ... When James' best friend kills him in cold blood? How can I believe in my world? How can I keep that light shining?"  
"Mister Lupin ..."  
"And Alice," Remus said, standing up, his poker face falling off in a matter of moments, "She stared at me. She stared right at me. Right through me! She didn't even feel Neville in her arms! She's alive, but inside ... inside she's gone. They're all dead. How long will it be until I'm dead?"  
"I ..."  
"I have tried, Professor! I have tried to be the smart one! I was always the smart one! The one who knew right from wrong! The one who would tell them not to do something or keep them out of trouble! That was always me!" Remus cried, his hands becoming fists, "But when they needed me the most, what did I do? I told them off, and slammed the door behind me. I didn't even look back! I didn't even ... look ... at that murderer ... and ... he was right there. I could have killed him. I could have stopped him."  
"You were always the smart one," Professor McGonagall said, interrupting him while she had the chance, "But you were never the strong one."  
With this remark, Remus looked to his old teacher, broken. All formalities that remained disappeared. His mask fell to the ground and shattered. And the professor watched as the headstrong man Remus had worked so hard to become fell away and revealed that little boy who had not disappeared after all. The little boy who had been so frightened of himself that he could trust no one. Not even his own judgement.  
And Remus cried.  
He fell to the ground, head in hands, knees to arms, and cried.  
The room was quiet for a moment as Professor McGonagall looked to her student, no trace of sympathy or understanding on her face. She was appalled.  
"I don't know what to do," Remus said, his raspy voice breaking the silence, "I don't know what to do anymore."  
"You're alive," she said tersely, "You should count that as a blessing."  
"I don't want to be alive," Remus said darkly, and Professor McGonagall slammed her hand down on the desk.  
"Look at yourself!" she barked, "Look at what you are resorting to! What do you think James would say if he could see you now! What if he was standing there in that corner, looking at you bawl like a little first year?"  
Remus didn't answer. If only James was standing there.  
"After all he did," Professor McGonagall said, "After all that he did to try and save you. To protect you, this is how you repay his memory. By crying. By giving up!"  
"I'm not giving up ..."  
"Mister Lupin, you still haven't defeated him," she interrupted him, "You still haven't killed that monster."  
"I can't!" Remus said, standing up, "There is no cure! I'm a werewolf, Professor I always will be a werewolf!"  
"The monster was never the wolf, Mister Lupin!" she shouted. Remus jumped back, now afraid. He had never seen her like this, "The monster was your fear."  
He didn't understand. Professor McGonagall sighed, and patted her bun to make sure it was still in place. They both could hear the children outside, ready for their Transfiguration class.  
"That is the monster that has consumed you, Mister Lupin," she said, "And that is the monster that is consuming you now. Yes, James is dead. That will not change. He won't be coming back to save you from yourself again. Now you must do that for yourself. You have to find the man inside, and realize that you are alive. That you are not in Azkaban. That you're name isn't on that bloody wall with so many people that are not as lucky as you to be standing there, able to breathe."  
Remus looked to her as she gathered her books and things. She came from behind her desk, and looked up into the eyes of the man now taller than her. He had stopped crying, and the mask was placed back on. Never to be removed again.  
"They will never truly die, Remus," she said in a softer tone, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was old and cracked, unlike the hand of Lily's that had laid itself there years ago, "Their memory, and their lessons, but most importantly their love ... those things remain forever alive in our hearts."  
"Forever alive," Remus mumbled, now dumb to the world. Now unable to see anything but the dancing faces of four boys in front of his eyes. So young.  
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, patting his arm for support, and then walking to the door.  
  
When Remus looked up, she was gone.  
  
It rained that night. It rained hard. Remus sat on his porch, staring at the rusting axe in the wood. He hadn't touched it for months. The last time he had chopped wood had been the day of Harry's birth. Harry.  
He wondered how Harry was.  
"That old hag," the wolf scoffed, yawning and setting himself at Remus's feet, "Thinking she knows us. But we both know she doesn't."  
  
It was raining. He could see it outside the iron bars of the window. It hit the stone and bricks with so much force. Making little puddles and tidepools in the cracks and crevices. Sirius stared at them, with fascination. That rain was free. Those stones and bricks were free. So close to him, and yet a lifetime away from where he sat on the ledge of the window.  
The dementors had taken another break, had decided to go torture some other victim. Sirius was left to think. Left to stare at the cold stone and the cold sky and the cold thunderclouds above.  
Remus.  
He had thought it to be Remus. How could he have even suspected him?  
And now Remus. The last Marauder. Alone out there somewhere.  
"He'll die," he said aloud to himself, "He doesn't have us. That thing will kill him."  
Kill him.  
For the past two weeks, he had played those images around and around in his head. The glowing rubble of the Godric's Hollow street. The dead face of James. The hair of Lily. And the sewer opening up to the hells below.  
The one thing that kept his madness at bay was Frank's question.  
"Were you responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter."  
He had heard it in his head. It had been from far away. But it had rang in his head for days. And for days he had contemplated his answer. He had repeated it to himself as he paced his cell, counting every brick. Timing every moment that went by.  
"Yes," he would whisper to himself.  
When the dementors were close to him, he would see that scene in his flat play out again. Him begging Lily and James to listen to him. Him pleading with them to get Peter.  
They had trusted him.  
They were now dead.  
Sirius bit his lip as he looked out to the clouds above him. The moon. He couldn't see the moon tonight. He wondered if Remus could.  
"You didn't kill them," he whispered now, "You didn't turn them in. You tried to be their friend. You tried to save them. And you would have given your life for them."  
After a week had passed of the "Yes"'s being whispered between the lapses of insanity and the memories of his childhood home and the deaths of James and Elise and Lily and his friends, the answer had changed.  
He saw Peter's face, before the explosion. A complete look of content. He had outsmarted his genius friends. He had finally come out on top. He was finally soaring through the sky instead of James.  
And that look helped the clouds in Sirius's own mind part. A moment of clear thinking had come to him.  
He was innocent.  
It had been a cold night a few evenings ago that he had sat here, on this ledge, and looked up to the half moon. And it was then that he had answered correctly.  
"No." he muttered, "No."  
Sirius's chest hurt from the tattoos that they had engraved into his skin. His clothes were torn. His hair was matted with his own blood. His eye ached. But his spirit was not broken.  
It never would be.  
Peter's face always came in and out of dreams. And after Peter had melted away into the darkness of his memories, another face would come. The face of a little boy.  
Laughing at his pet dog.  
"Doggy!" he had squealed once, hours before the house had been torched.  
Sirius could still feel the little boy in his arms at the hospital, looking up to him in complete trust and love. He would hold him again someday. He would protect him and teach him all about his father and what his father did. He swore himself that oath.  
Sirius smiled to himself in this dark cold dismal dungeon. Not all was lost. He was a father. He had a child out there, alive and safe.  
"Harry," he whispered, looking to the moon once again as it peered from behind the clouds and rain. It was not full yet, "Harry Potter."  
  
Harry Potter, Peter thought to himself, shivering. He fell down, losing his footing on the side of the Muggle sewers. He had to make it out of here. He had to run away from that horrible scene he had created. He would start a new life. He would begin again.  
And hide from the world that wanted to kill him.  
Harry Potter was still alive. But Harry would know nothing of him. He would know nothing of the three men who had stood alongside his father and mother. And if he did know of them, he would be taught to hate the werewolf who had abandoned them and the murderer who had betrayed them. And poor Peter Pettigrew. He was a good man. He went chasing after Sirius Black. He wanted to be the hero he never could be. After his unwavering loyalty to the Potters, he had given his life for them. He had faced the evil Black and had died for it.  
That is how it would go down in the history books. He had read the Daily Prophet for the past two weeks. And he knew this now. He knew what the world thought.  
Yet the Dark Lord's followers knew the real story. They knew that Peter had been praised for his efforts, being a double spy for the Order. And now they all would be out, looking for that man. As far as they knew, he was dead. He had killed himself in that explosion.  
He lay in the sewer water, not moving a muscle. He had fallen and didn't have enough energy to get up.  
What had he done.  
What had he done.  
  
"Remus," the wolf sneered, drawing closer, "You were the monster all along. What do you think of that."  
"That isn't what she said," Remus said in a dull tone.  
"That's exactly what she said. The fear. I know that I'm certainly not the fear. I have no fear."  
  
Sirius remembered a time when James and Remus and him had been all together in the Shrieking Shack. The dawn had just come, and Remus had just changed back from a wolf to a boy. Peter had been on the lookout for Pomfrey. And Sirius and James smiled at Remus.  
"We did it again," James said in that lively tone. One that Sirius thought would never fade out of his memories. But even now, that voice was growing dimmer. The face of his friend was disappearing and mixing with faces of strangers.  
"You mean you did it," Sirius said, sitting exhausted on the ground, "Remus Lupin, congrats."  
Remus had smiled. Not the faint smile that his friend usually wore. A true smile. One without restrictions.  
"Prongs! Come here for a minute, would you?" Peter's voice shouted from the tunnel. James got to his feet, and ducked under the floorboards.  
"You did it," Sirius said, nodding towards Remus, "You stayed with us all night."  
Remus returned the nod, and sighed, tired from the excursions of his battle.  
"One day," Sirius remembered himself saying, "One day, you'll get the best of him. You'll kill him. And then, you really will have done it."  
Remus nodded again.  
"The real Lupin lives here," Sirius said, touching Remus's fast beating heart with his palm, "Never forget that."  
  
Wormtail continued through the tunnels of sewage. Farther and farther from the crime scene. Closer to a destination not yet agreed upon.  
  
Remus stirred in his sleep as he sat in his chair on the porch. He had pulled a blanket around his body, and trying to drone the wolf out. He remembered a time now, more clearer than the others. Much more clearer than the others.  
Sirius had pointed to his heart one night, when Remus was doubting all. After Remus doubted even his own sanity. He had beaten the wolf, but the creature was still lurking in the corners of his mind.  
"The real Lupin lives here."  
  
It was raining above, Peter realized as he stepped underneath a gutter. The drainage fell onto his head, and he whimpered. His clothes were torn. His knees were scabbed. His hair was matted with feces and other wastes. He smelled of a sewer rat.  
That's what he was. A rat.  
  
Sirius shifted on his ledge, and continued to stare at the moon. He was innocent. This would give him back his sanity. He would hold onto that thought ... that resounding answer of no ... until he could fit through these bars and fly away to Harry. He would savor those words no and innocent until their sound seemed alien and unfamiliar to him. He would sit there, on that ledge, for eternity until he either died or was set free.  
He would escape this cell.  
He would not die here.  
He did not deserve to die here.  
  
"Wake up, Remus," the wolf sneered, "The moon is out tonight."  
Remus opened his eyes, and looked up at the moon. The moon that had bound all four of them together with so much suffering and love that at times it had been unbearable. He stared at the moon, as if it linked him to the children who once gazed at it through a break in the boards that hid the devilish world of werewolves and pain from the exterior of the Shrieking Shack and beyond. As if it linked him to James's proposal to Lily, when they both stood under that glowing light and confessed their love. As if it linked him to that night at Dolohov's when Sirius had come rushing in to save him. When James would die for him.  
As if it linked him to that last breath of Lily's. When she fell onto the hard floor of her home. And died.  
"Remus," the wolf sniggered hauntingly.  
"You're wrong," Remus whispered, his cold breath becoming ice in front of him.  
The wolf perked up, and raised his head, his ears twitching.  
"Wrong about what, praytell?" he said, a hint of worry in his voice.  
"You do fear something," Remus said, that slight smile breaking through his mask, "You fear that you will disappear. You fear that I won't be afraid of you any longer. You fear that I will kill you."  
"You could never ..."  
"Je ne mourrai pas," Remus whispered to himself, and looked back to the axe in the chopped wood. He stood, the blanket falling off of him, "Mais tu ... Tu mourras."  
"Remus," the wolf laughed. Remus didn't respond. He just focused on that axe. And he walked towards it. Leaving the wolf to himself on the porch.  
"Remus?" the wolf said.  
Remus didn't answer.  
"REMUS!" the wolf howled.  
  
Sirius, hearing the dementors draw nearer, held onto those words for a longer time. Innocent. He was innocent.  
Keep your eyes on that moon, a voice in his head said loud and clear, That is your freedom.  
"Je ne mourrai pas," he said in a silent tone, only to himself, "Je ne mourrai pas."  
  
Remus felt the axe handle in his hand as the slivers threatened to pierce his rough skin. He let the blade fall, falling farther and farther ... closer and closer to that wood that had sat there untouched for so long.  
Chop.  
The log snapped into two.  
And the axe fell into the tree stump. The wolf still howled in his ears.  
But he wouldn't look at the wolf. No. He did not fear it any longer.  
  
Peter sat in the waters, staring through the gutter hole above his head. Looking at the moon again. It was a half moon. His friend Remus would be facing his dangers again soon enough.  
What was it that Remus had always said? What was that phrase that he had held onto for so long? That he had whispered to the winds whenever he had felt any sort of anger or twinge of fright?  
They were French words. Words that he surely couldn't remember the meaning of now as he sat in the sewers. But he knew they had a meaning.  
  
Sirius fell asleep there on the ledge of the iron barred window. He would wake in the morning to another dark and cruel day. And after weeks and weeks of torture, he would find comfort in the body of his old friend Padfoot. And Padfoot would give him his salvation. He would prance around his cell, thinking of what he would say to Remus when he met him again. Thinking of what to tell Harry when Harry believed that he had killed James. Thinking of the days to come.  
But those days were not that moment.  
In that moment, he had no salvation. He had no thoughts of the future. He had the moon, and the memories.  
"Je ne mourrai pas," were his last words before his head nodded to his chest, and his hand loosened its grip on the crease of his sleeve.  
"Je ne mourrai pas."  
  
"Je ne mourrai pas," Remus said, murderously, as he threw the axe to the ground and looked back to where the wolf sat.  
But the wolf had gone.  
  
"Je ne mourrai pas," Peter said, swallowing hard, "Je ne mourrai pas."  
He would live through this. He had gotten this far. He couldn't give up now.  
  
Remus let himself back into the now empty cabin. The wolf was still no where in sight.  
He threw his shirt off, and walked into his front room. He fell onto his bed, his mask still in place. He had taken on the persona of a man. He had come into his own.  
The monster had been killed.  
His nightmares had been defeated.  
And now he could dream of a better tomorrow. Now he could dream of possibilities and happiness to follow this dismal night.  
He felt his head hit the pillow, stained with the blood of nightmares gone by. He covered his legs with his ratted blankets, and looked out the window to the moon. His eye creased, ever so slightly, as if he was daring it to shift from half to full.  
Come on, he seemed to say, Let's see your worst.  
"Je ne mourrai pas," he said once more before falling into a dream.  
The dream was about him flying.  
High above the clouds.  
And James and Lily and Peter were all below him, jumping and laughing and shouting up to him.  
He knew that if he went past the clouds, and past the sun and the moon and the stars ... that they would still be there, shouting for him, when he returned.  
And for the first time in his life, Remus Lupin was alive. 


	118. Chapter 117: The End

(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)  
  
(DISCLAIMER FOR THIS UPDATE AND THE LAST UPDATE: Some of the dialogue, scenes, and situations, etc., are taken from the Harry Potter books, written by J.K. Rowling. (Primarily "The Prisoner of Azkaban" and "The Order of the Phoenix.") I do NOT take credit for anything you may recognize, nor want a profit for their creations, and the above disclaimer and the disclaimer over this entire story is in use during the next chapter. Also, in the last chapter, "To Live," and this Epilogue, there were certain aspects from Steve Kloves' screenplay and Alfonso Cuaron's movie, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," taken and put to use. These rights are held by the respective holders and creators, primarily Mr. Kloves, Mrs. Rowling, Mr. Cuaron, and Warner Bros. I do not take any credit for their creations, and do not wish to make a profit from their creations. I only use them to help the story along for dramatic purposes, and wish not to take credit for ANYTHING you may recognize.)  
  
(NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Thank you everyone. I have finally made it to the end of this saga. It has been about a year since I began it, and it has been a wonderful journey. Please check the review board for the special Reply to the Reviewers. Brace yourselves, the Epilogue is long. It equals out to about forty five pages when typed out. Also, you may take the liberty of reading a "sneak peek" at an upcoming fanfiction that I am writing and will post as soon as I can. It will be no where near the length of "Forever Alive," but it will tie into this story, and hopefully will be just as enjoyable. It won't be updated as "regularly" as this one was, and at the most will be thirty pages other than the seven hundred page whopper this one has become. But I think it stands on its own as an interesting take on another story we all wish to hear. Yes, it is a Snape fic. But don't worry, MWPP fans. I love those guys too much to dismiss them. So they'll still be there. And I swear you'll love Snape by the end. So take a look when you're done reading the Epilogue. Sadly, I will not be able to complete an analysis as of now. But I hope sometime in the future I may return and do that. Thank you again for this wonderful year, and I hope to see you all back on board for the next story!)  
  
The sun of the present day shone through the cracked glass of an old window, and into a dust filled room. Onto the bed, it lit the covers of the dried tears and imprints of dead men. It illuminated the dirtied floor, and finally came to land on the limp figure of a sleeping man. All features of boyhood were gone from his stature or face, and the peaceful and content expression he wore told a spectator of this scene that he truly was having a beautiful dream. Under his arms, folded to support his head, lay a pile of assorted parchments. Ontop, written in red, were the all-too-familiar names of a day that had come and gone.  
Moony.  
Wormtail.  
Padfoot.  
Prongs.  
The red ink gleamed in the sunlight as they lay under the sleeping man. His hair was greyed by time and loss. His eyes were heavier. His skin was paler.  
And yet, his jaw was clenched harder than it had been in the past.  
His arms were stronger.  
His spirit was braver.  
The door opened quietly, and the figure of another man could be seen. One could recognize Alastor Moody from his eye, and not much else. His skin had been chopped in so many places. His nose was gone. And his face, too, was worn.  
He now fashioned his old Bowler hat, and a cape that covered his wooden leg that had replaced an able and ready limb. He hunched when he walked, and any sign of youth had expired. He was meeting his end.  
"Lupin," Moody said in a gruffer voice than years before, "Lupin, wake up, man."  
Lupin stirred, and opened his eyes. It was morning. Sirius would be coming any moment up the steps ...  
Then he remembered.  
Sirius was dead.  
He had gone to return to James last night. Sacrificing his life for Harry, Sirius had run into the fight, so alive with spirit. But those eyes, staring at Harry before they flickered out forever ...  
He remembered the hours before Sirius had died. They had been sitting upstairs, playing wizard's chess. Speaking of random things that men usually spoke about when preoccupied with a pint of butterbeer or a game of cards. It had been then that Kreacher had come howling into the room, saying that Buckbeak was screeching. Sirius had run to his hippogriff's aid, and Lupin had fallen asleep in his chair upstairs. If only he had been awake ... If only he had been downstairs ...  
"Lupin, it's already late morning," Moody growled as Remus raised his head, "We have an appointment. Now get up."  
Remus was pulled out of the memories of last night, and ran a hand through his hair. It had been a long night. Dreams that even he couldn't remember now flashed before his eyes. An old music box. A house with a thousand rooms. Men in the park, draped in black. Murderers. Lovers. Brothers.  
He was back in the room where he had begun.  
They were dead. All dead once again.  
All he had were their memories.  
  
Lupin hadn't changed clothes since the battle last night. Moody saw this as he toyed with his walking cane by the front door of Grimmauld Place. He watched the man step down the staircase, each floorboard screaming as he did so.  
Remus knew they were going somewhere. Somewhere important. Moody wouldn't have come so early in the day if it hadn't been important. He looked to his old teacher through eyes he hadn't been behind for ages. He no longer saw Mad Eye as a fellow Order Member, but as a teacher. He again was the student to this old Auror, awaiting to be taught.  
He saw the figures of James and Peter and Sirius and Lily all standing with him in front of the chalkboard, all laughing and dancing in front of his gaze.  
"Wonder what the great and all knowing Mad Eye will teach us today," Sirius barked, "Maybe how to escape from this prison!"  
The irony was uncanny now.  
"Lupin, come on, don't dawdle," Moody said, opening the door, "A Ministry car's already here."  
Remus followed his teacher out of the door, and shut it behind him. He didn't know what clothes he had on, or what day it was, or even what year it was. He was drifting back into memories untouched for years. Memories he had shielded himself from. Memories that he never wanted to relive.  
As the door shut behind him, he heard the welcoming voice of Sirius as they met once again outside Grimmauld Place only a year ago.  
"Finally!" he said, embracing his friend, "Never thought you lot would come! Leave me alone in a hole like this for ages!"  
"It's only been a week, Padfoot," Remus laughed, and Sirius shrugged.  
"That long, huh?" he said, letting him inside.  
Remus shook his head as the ghosts of the past continued to follow him down to the sidewalk, and into the Ministry car. Moody placed himself next to Remus in the back as an unknown driver shut their doors and pushed on the gas pedal. They sped away, just like that day when they had been driving to another Headquarters. A Headquarters that had been abandoned for many years and now housed a new family.  
"You remember when I said that I hoped you'd be lucky enough to never put a name on that wall?" Moody said as Grimmauld Place disappeared behind a corner.  
"Yes," Lupin said.  
"Well, you're not that lucky," Moody sighed, and then turned his swiveling eye away from Remus, "You've been given the honors this time."  
Lupin didn't say a word. He suspected that this would be true. His mind was off in a different place. In a different world.  
One that he had been caged in oh so many years ago.  
He remembered after James had died, and Lily had gone as well. And Peter had escaped. And Sirius was locked up in Azkaban. There was nothing more to do but forget. He remembered that stormy night when the wolf disappeared forever, never to be heard from again.  
Every month, he would transform, and a part of the wolf would come back. He would try to revive himself. But Remus wasn't afraid any longer. He only held onto himself, trying to stay afloat in a current that he now had control over. But that didn't mean that he never slipped, and found himself falling back into an abyss. At least this abyss was not filled with the jeerings of an imaginary beast. With the fangs and claws of a forgotten enemy.  
The years had rolled on. The media knew of the story the way it had been presented to them. Sirius was maddened after the fall of his master. He blew the street to bits. It was as simple and as easy as that. Peter had vanished into the past. The prophecy was never spoken of. And Remus ... the forgotten friend ... was never mentioned. Whenever he heard Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick speak of it amongst themselves in the corridors, after he had taken a job up at Hogwarts, it was always poor James Potter and Sirius Black. You remember those two, don't you? They always had a little gang of friends following them around. Lupin had just become a follower of the great Potter and Black duo. He would never be mentioned to Harry. He would never be recognized for his battles alongside them. And he would never be rewarded for the scars he had carried around for so many years.  
Then again, as Moody had told them years before, real heroes are forgotten.  
He had found work in odd places. Moved back in with his parents for a while, trying to make ends meet. Or more like his parents moved back in with him. But as everyone dies, so did they. And he was again alone.  
He never met a girl he liked. He never had a fantasy fairy tale story like James had had. He never had a best friend like Sirius had had. He lived a normal and unsastisfying life. He was never asked to comment on the prisoner Black. He was never met with another urgent message in the middle of the night by Mad Eye. The Order had taken him, used him, and forgotten him. It was the way of the world.  
Once, he had gotten a letter from Hagrid, asking for pictures of James and Lily for Harry. That had been only a few years before he met Harry again. But that was the only news from that world he had turned his back on.  
He lived in his cabin, alone. If a neighbor needed to get rid of knomes in their gardens or a boggart in a closet upstairs, he would be willing to do the odd jobs for a price. If the Daily Prophet needed a clarification on the uses of dragon's blood or a sketch of a hinkypunk, they'd pay him a visit. He was unknown. Just a man who had a certain liking towards Dark creatures. And this is the way he made his money.  
He wasn't unhappy. No, he was a strong man. Just as long as he had his forest and his sanity, he was content. Had he liked to see Harry? Oh, by God he had wanted to very much. It was on the lonliest nights that he would sit on his porch, whiddling away at a piece of wood, staring up at the clear night sky. And that night at the hospital would come back to him.  
The dream he had had the night before. Of Harry's tenth birthday, and all of them crowded around his cake and singing and laughing. And the little boy, looking almost identical to James, sometimes identical to a masculine Lily, running up to him and throwing both arms around him. And calling him Uncle Remus.  
And then he would shake himself from that reverie and realize that Harry, if still alive and well, didn't even know he existed. Oh, sometimes maybe in a dream a memory of Remus holding him and giving him a bottle would arise. But that Remus had died a long time ago. Now Remus's heart was stronger. His mind more agile. He was no longer a prisoner of his own hell. Harry wouldn't even recognize him today.  
Once, when Remus was walking through London about two years before he joined the staff at Hogwarts, he thought he saw a glimpse of a boy who would have been around Harry's age. He was right behind a freckle faced girl with large glasses. He only saw the boy for a moment before he disappeared behind the girl. He had glasses on, just like James. And his hair was just like James. And to this day, Lupin didn't know if it had been Harry or not. His guess was no.  
He hated to think of James. It pained him to have those memories of Hogwarts arise in front of his conscience. So he tried to forget after a few years. He tried to make his heart stone, like his expressionless face, and he tried to become stronger for it. But James continued to plague his nightmares. Sometimes his dreams.  
One of the most vivid dreams he had had about a year after James's death was one of the two Potters, walking side by side by the lake at Hogwarts. They were young, almost seventeen. They were quietly strolling, not saying a word to each other, when all of a sudden, James turned around and smiled at Remus.  
"Come on," he had said, waving him towards them, "We need to talk."  
Remus, very skeptical, joined them. And Lily laughed and said, "You look thinner."  
"I'm doing all right," he said.  
"Harry's safe," James said, looking at his old friend, "And so is Sirius."  
"I don't care about ..."  
"You should," Lily said, taking his hand now, "You should."  
It was after this dream that Remus had returned to the Order's records at the Ministry for the first time in a year. He found the Pensieve that Frank Longbottom had left endowed to filing only a week or so before he lost his sanity. It hurt even now to think of it.  
Lupin had leaned over the Pensieve, and had watched the scene of Frank's interrogation of Sirius Black. He watched it with tears welling up in his eyes, and for the first time in a year, he cried. He saw Mad Eye slam Black against the iron bars. He saw Black cackle and scream out those hurtful words. Each syllable was a slap in the face. It was true. Sirius Black had really killed James.  
Frank had then asked the question. And Black had answered yes.  
He had heard about that moment from so many sources. But to see it for himself, he couldn't stand it. It had been then that he had quit his job at the Ministry, and his parents had moved back in. And Remus Lupin was just a name in a thousand of past employees of the Ministry of Magic.  
When he finally had no where else to go, parents dead and money running short, it had been twelve long years of struggle. He had moved on, though. After the fifth year, he had begun teaching again. By the sixth year, he had a steady job at a day school. By the eighth year, he was fired. By the ninth, he decided to see the world and head out for the mainland. It was here he studied all sorts of creatures and bettered his education in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. But by the eleventh, he was again trapped inside his home with dwindling funds.  
It was then that he had visited Hogwarts for the first time in twelve years.  
Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't aged a single day since the last moment he laid eyes on his mentor. He stood in front of the old man, very desperate, yet never letting on. Dumbledore sat in his chair, as he had the first day he had met this young man.  
Remus had grown to be thirty three. He was no longer a young man. He was no longer the eleven year old child who had shivered at the thought of the glowing moon. His jaw was set and firm. His hair neatly cut. His body somewhat starved of nutrients, yet healthy. His robes tattered and worn, but still in tact. It was the life story of Remus Lupin. To someone looking in on it, they may think that he was one straw away from losing his grip and falling. But to someone who knew the man, they would know that he was one of the most resilient and strongest souls alive.  
It had not always been like this.  
"Headmaster," Lupin had said, in a very mature and adult tone that Dumbledore had never heard before, "I am down to my last penny. I have studied in the defenses against the dark arts, and I know more than your best teacher at this school ever will know."  
"We have been looking for an instructor in that field," Dumbledore said, looking over his papers, "No one seems to want the job after the Lockhart incident. And of course, you must have heard about Quirrel ..."  
"I did," Lupin said.  
"And you are willing to risk your sanity and life for this job?"  
"Nothing I haven't done before," Lupin said, a small sign of a smile curling onto his upper lip.  
Dumbledore, realizing what Lupin was referring to, smiled as well. He had not talked to his old student in over a decade. The lad had grown. Had learned to stand on his own without the help of his now dead and gone friends. He truly had fought his own monsters.  
"Remus, I never got to honor you properly for your services to the ..."  
"It was a job," Lupin cut him off before he said anything more, "It was a job you gave me. And now I am asking you for another sort of job."  
Dumbledore nodded slowly, and then leaned back in his seat, "Of course, you use the Wolfsbane potion nowadays?"  
"Of course," Lupin said.  
"Well, then I believe there won't be any use for the Whomping Willow, then, will there?"  
"No, there won't be."  
"Well, then I must say welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Lupin," Dumbledore said, shaking his hand over the desk.  
Professor Lupin.  
That's who he had become.  
He remembered the morning he saw the news, telling the wizarding community that a convict had escaped from Azkaban prison. Lupin hadn't thought much about it before hearing the name of the convict. It didn't occur to him that no one had ever escaped from the prison before. That it was impossible.  
"The convict's name has been released to us at this time," the reporter said then, "Sirius Black, You-Know-Who's top supporter during the Great War, has escaped. I repeat, Sirius Black has escaped. We go to Myrtle on the shores of Azkaban prison for more information."  
Lupin watched in horror as they flashed Black's face for the audience to see. The numbers, X Y 390. The hair falling in his face as he paused between laughs. The hollowed eyes. He had not seen those eyes for twelve years.  
"Thank you, Geoffrey," Myrtle said, "Sirius Black was charged and found guilty of twelve accounts of murder in the early 1980's. This included the mauling of Peter Pettigrew, a local hero who attempted in stopping the madman from causing anyone harm. Black was born in London, England, in the year 1960, to a wealthy family. He attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry between the ages of eleven and seventeen. After graduation, he spent four years working for the ministry under the direction of an Alastor Mad Eye Moody, one of the legendary Aurors that brought the destruction of Volde .... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Alastor Moody was not available for comment."  
Lupin watched in horror as Myrtle continued, showing Muggle footage of the street where Peter had died.  
"He was said to be a very strong supporter of You-Know-Who, and possibly allied with some of the most famous Death Eaters of all time, including Antonin Dolohov."  
Lupin's throat clenched at that name. No wonder Black had saved him that night at Dolohov's. He had known exactly where to go. He knew just how to stage a rescue for the Order so they wouldn't suspect him.  
"When Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who, Black was said to go raving mad, and caused an explosion on a city street, killing Muggles and wizards alike. It was earlier this morning that a guard realized that the prisoner was gone, and notified authorities immediately."  
  
Lupin returned to Hogwarts the day that the first term started, had found a compartment on the student's train, and had slept. It had been a vigorous night. A full moon.  
He had heard the sounds of children in his ear as he slept peacefully, thinking of what to do for the first class session after the weekend had ended. He thought possibly a boggart.  
It had been the dementors crawling onto the train that had awoken him. A boy screaming on the ground, clawing at his head. A dark, shadowed figure flew over the boy, and lowered his hood, about to kiss him.  
Lupin had stood up, and had forced the dementors out. He knew why they were here at the school. An old acquaintance had escaped from Azkaban days ago, and now they believed he was out to get Harry Potter, the remaining remnant of James. Lupin believed it wholeheartedly. Harry would be in school now. Dumbledore had said in Gryffindor House. Every day since his hiring Lupin had been looking forward to finally setting eyes on the child he had held in his arms as a young man. He wanted to see James again, in all his glory. Harry was said to be an amazing Quidditch player.  
James wouldn't have been more proud.  
But Sirius Black had escaped. And as the train continued into the gates of Hogsmeade, Lupin felt his mind swarm with old memories. Black, out to get Harry. Harry, here at school.  
It was Harry who the dementors had attacked. He remembered the first time he had seen his face properly. A small girl with buck teeth and large hair had screamed, holding onto a red haired boy.  
"He's dead!" she screamed as Harry grew still and cold on the compartment floor.  
"Shh, here," Lupin said, giving her some chocolate, "He's not dead. He's just fainted, that's all."  
"Professor Lupin ..."  
Remus stopped at the name, and looked to the girl, "Yes? How did you know my name?"  
"Your trunk," she said.  
"Ah," he said, "And what might your name be?"  
"Hermione," she whispered, still looking at Harry in fright.  
"Don't be afraid," Remus said, taking Harry's head and placing it on his lap, "He'll be awake in no time. Just had a bit of a scare."  
A few minutes later, he had seen Harry's eyes open. And the startling green brought Lily's kind face back to him.  
"Harry Potter," he whispered, and he saw Hermione and the red haired boy rush to their friend to tend to him. They reminded him so much of the four of them. The way they cared about each other. The way it was them against the world.  
And the days to come would prove this to be more true than he would have imagined.  
He grew to know his students. He grew to know Harry. He taught Harry so much. How to handle a Patronus so he could continue to play Quidditch without being knocked out of the sky by dementors. He told Harry a little about James, and even less about Lily.  
He wanted to tell Harry everything. But that would include the not-so great things about James. How James had jinxed about every single one of Harry's classmates' parents. How James had ridden the skies like he owned the world. And it would have also included the Animagus spells, what James had done for Remus ... how he had taken in a small little boy and had taught him to be a man. It would have included how he had a best friend who he trusted with his life, and how that best friend had killed him. James's life wasn't as picture perfect as Harry had wanted to see it. And why not let a boy dream of their father? Why not believe that he and Lily never had one argument? Never hated each other?  
Remus Lupin was, after all, still a shadow in the entire story of the marauders. No longer a key role, but a nameless face of twenty thousand or more admirers of Potter and Black. So you could imagine Lupin's surprise when Harry asked him about Sirius Black.  
"Well, if you knew my father then you must have known Black," he said, "They were best friends."  
"Yes, I knew him," Lupin had said, still taken aback by the question. And then, in a softer tone, Lupin added, "Or I thought I did."  
He then never said another word about Black to Harry. He knew Harry was in danger, but that boy continued to get himself into trouble. Lupin once found himself one night in the quarters of a fellow teacher, Professor Snivellus Snape. Snape was still Potions Master at the school, and he had held onto that job for a good long time. Snape hated him. Loathed him. Had accused him of helping Black into the castle on various occassions. He didn't trust Lupin more than he trusted Harry.  
When Lupin had arrived through the fireplace, he had seen James's boy sitting there, in front of Snape. And Snape holding a very familiar looking object.  
The Marauder's Map.  
After that tizzy, Lupin had warned Harry never to leave school grounds again. He shouted at him. Told him that his parents had died for him. And this is the thanks that he gave his dead mother. All for a bag of sweets and jokes.  
It had been the one time he had lost his temper with Harry. The one time he felt the anger well up inside of him so much that he had to let it go on someone. James had died for this boy, and all he could do is be exactly like his father. Going off and risking things that should never be risked for a thrill. And it hurt him to see James in Harry. It hurt him more than he could fathom.  
After that, Snape had called him back into his office.  
"Shut the door, wolf," Snape had snarled at him, and Lupin did as told. He sat in the chair that Harry had been sitting in previously. Snape had taken his seat as well, and had glared at the man.  
"Mr. Moony," Snape looked to Lupin in the most hating sense imaginable, "That was your parchment," he said, "I'd recognize that handwriting anywhere. It was yours. And Black's. And Potter's. And Pettigrew's."  
"You have a remarkably good memory," Lupin commented.  
"Silence," Snape said, his pale face becoming red with anger, "And I remember those names you lot gave yourselves. The marauders. Moony. Wormtail. Padfoot. Prongs. I demand to know what that parchment was, or I shall report you to the Headmaster."  
"It was a map," Lupin said.  
"A ... a what?"  
"It was a map," he repeated, "So we could go through the corridors at night without being caught. It was a map of the school. Here, I'll demonstrate," he took the rolled up parchment from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."  
The map, just as he remembered it, in Black's handwriting, scrolled onto the page. Snape looked at it, disappointed. As if he thought it to be something to help Black to the school. But there was no Sirius Black listed. That name was no where in sight.  
"How did the boy find it," Snape demanded.  
"I honestly don't have the slightest idea," Lupin said truthfully, "This map was confiscated in the seventh year."  
"You think you're so clever, don't you, Lupin," Snape said, as Lupin wiped the map clean and placed it back in his pocket, "But you just did your old friend's boy in. Now I know that he truly was in Hogsmeade today. He used that ... that thing ... to get there. I don't know how, but he did."  
"You have no proof, Severus," Lupin said, standing up, "It has my name written on it, therefore it belongs to me. Your evidence is gone. And when I leave Hogwarts, it will go with me. The Marauders are no more. They died out a long time ago."  
"At least that's what you wish for us to believe," Snape snarled, "I know you're helping Black. I know it!"  
Lupin sighed, and then showed himself out the door.  
"Good night, Snivellus," he said.  
  
It was later in that year that Lupin had sat down at his desk and had taken the map out once more to look at it. Possibly burn it. He unlocked it once more, and scanned the grounds to see who was out and about. He knew that Harry and his two friends would be off to see the execution of Buckbeak.  
And sure enough, there were four little dots scattering away from the pumpkin patch where the dead bird now lay. Harry Potter. Ronald Weasley. Hermione Granger. And ...  
Lupin almost fell out of his chair. He blinked, and shook his head. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again.  
It was there.  
Peter Pettigrew.  
And the map was never wrong.  
Lupin leaned in closer. They couldn't possibly have his dead carcus running with them.  
"Peter?" Lupin said to himself. Who else would be with those three?  
Lupin caught a glimpse of another dot reading "Crookshanks" a few feet from where they were. Of course. A pet would be with them! Undetected ...  
Harry's owl, no. And what sort of a pet did Ron have ...  
Lupin howled, and jumped to his feet, staring at the map in complete and utter esctacy. He was alive! Peter was alive!  
But another dot was crawling across the map, closer and closer to Ron. And this one made his heart clench. It was one of a name he wished never to read again.  
Sirius Black.  
He stuffed the map in his pocket, and ran for the door.  
  
It had been a cold and tiring journey through the tunnel that he had relied on as a child. He heard his voice screaming through the dirt walls, screaming, "Let me die. Let me die."  
It had been so long ago.  
And as he got closer, he realized that the screaming was not his imagination, but the children ahead. He flew through the trap door, and into the hell that he had never forgotten. The Shrieking Shack. Up the stairs, where he could hear a low, hoarse voice trying to calm a screaming boy's. It was Harry. Harry was alive.  
"WE'RE IN HERE!" Hermione's voice screamed, "IT'S SIRIUS BLACK! HELP US!"  
Lupin ran down the hallway, and kicked the door open. There lay Ron on the bed, his leg obviously broken. Hermione staring at complete horror at Harry, who was holding a wand to an older man's throat. For a moment, the man turned to look at Lupin who had come rushing into the room. And it was in that moment that Lupin recognized him. Those hollowed eyes. Those lost eyes. Twelve years of aging and torture couldn't disguise Padfoot from Moony.  
Thousands of memories passed before him in an instant. The handsome face of Sirius laughing about a prank they had just pulled on Snivellus. The hands that fidgetted with his collar the night of the Graduation Dance. The arms that had held Harry when he was born.  
The Marauders were united.  
Remus lived again.  
"EXPELLIRAMUS!" Remus shouted, and Harry's wand went flying. The three children grew silent as Remus walked to the shell of a man and pointed his own wand to him. It was too good to be true.  
"Where is he, Sirius," Remus had heard his voice command of the man now laying on the floor. Sirius pointed an aged finger at Ron, and Remus saw the rat poking out of his hands. It was true.  
"But then ..." Remus whispered, "Why hasn't he shown himself until now ... unless ..."  
He thought of the Pensieve. Of Frank asking that question.  
How broad it had been. How Sirius was to be the Secret Keeper. How Sirius would have seen a flaw in the perfect plan, as always.  
How Sirius had always used Peter.  
How they hadn't trusted Remus at the given time.  
And it all clicked.  
"Unless ... HE was the one ... unless you switched ... without telling me ..."  
Sirius's dark face, now a strange face, now one of an adult that Remus had never met, smiled. And he nodded. And they embraced. Once more, Moony and Padfoot were against the world. Once more, they were together.  
They had explained everything to the children who had found their way into this mess up. They had told them everything, all except the horrors of the Order. They were not ready for those memories. Oh, no, but Remus told Harry all about his father. All about his father helping him through the horrible monthly trials.  
And finally, they coaxed the children to give up the rat that Ron had taken in under the name of Scabbers. Sirius and Remus stood together, and watched as yet another marauder drifted into the room. Yet another old and scarred face of a man. The boy was gone. The memories of their twenty year old selves faded away as they looked at each other as now old men.  
Peter had stood up on his shaky back legs, and had faced his jury of peers. The two men that he had killed inside. The two men that had suffered because of his betrayal. And they had turned to kill him, together. They would avenge James's death.  
It was at this time that a peculiar thing had happened. James's son had taken pity on Peter. And had stood in the way of the two of them, telling them that he should be spared. Given a trial. And then sent to Azkaban.  
And so they had made their way through the tunnel once more, to the outside world. And it was here that Lupin had stopped in the midst of the entrance.  
He looked to the landscape that he had once looked out to as a child. Surrounded by his friends. By Peter and Sirius and James. By Lily.  
And he smiled.  
"R-Remus," Peter stammered, his voice growing quiet as if wanting to exclude Ron from the conversation. Ron was tied to his other side by the chains, "P-Please. We were always friends. You know that I would have n- never ... killed ... J-James by my own free will ..."  
Lupin didn't answer.  
"H-he ... he was cruel to us, Moony," Peter said, "Don't you remember James? Don't you remember how arrogant he was? How selfish he was?"  
Lupin stared straight ahead.  
"I can guess you haven't told little Harry about his father's ways, have you. You've led him on to believe James was a good person."  
"He was twice the man you ever amounted to," Lupin broke, glaring at Peter.  
And then the sky had cleared. Lupin had stopped, and looked to the moon above, now coming from behind a large black cloud. His eyes grew wide, and he felt his body become rigid.  
A laughing was heard off in the shadows of the night. Lupin quickly turned to look to see who was there, lurking in the darkness. Laughing at him.  
"Hello, Remus," a familiar voice sounded in his head. And he saw the figure of a wolf appear in front of him, bathed in the moonlight, "It's been a long time."  
"No ..." he gasped, before the wolf lunged at him, and grabbed him by the neck. His neck writhed and twisted. And his body started convulsing.  
He heard the screaming of the children. He heard Sirius's voice.  
The wolf wouldn't let go. He was falling farther and farther away.  
"REMUS!" Sirius said, shouting at him. Trying to keep him afloat in the hellish waters he had entered once again. Sirius turned into a dog, and stepped in front of Harry protectively.  
A dog he remembered from so long ago.  
But Remus couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anymore. Remus was dead. Remus was dying. There was nothing he could do.  
"JE NE MOURRAI PAS, YOU STUPID FOOL!" the wolf guffawed as he possessed him and took over the boy, limb from limb, "YOU FOOL! YOU FOOL! I'LL KILL YOUR FRIEND! I'LL KILL HIM!"  
He had seen the moon.  
And he had died.  
And the wolf had come back to haunt him.  
He couldn't really remember what happened after that. The wolf had been biding his time all these years, waiting for Remus to stumble and forget the potion. Forget himself in the whirlwind of darkness once again. And the wolf turned him against his friends. Turned him against Sirius.  
He remembered digging into the flesh of Padfoot, almost killing him. Almost murdering his only friend left in the world. Remus screamed out for mercy, just like he had when he was a boy. And the wolf laughed.  
"Je ne mourrai pas!" the wolf sang as he joyfully went running into the woods, "You fool!"  
  
That morning, he realized that Peter had escaped. And so had Sirius. His friends were once again gone from him. With a headache, he walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He took his seat a the High Table. Professor McGonagall saw him, and then smiled to herself.  
"The Headmaster told me all about it," she said, laying a hand on his tired and dirtied arm, "About everything."  
Remus looked away, realizing what she meant. Sirius must have told Dumbledore. Finally, after twenty two years, their secret had been found out.  
"I'm sorry I betrayed your trust, Professor," he said, in the mentality of his old self. Of young Remus. Of a Remus who had been awakened last night in the body of this unknown person.  
"Professor," Professor McGonagall laughed, "I haven't heard you call me that for ages," she then took his hand and said, "You do realize what great danger those boys put themselves in for you, Mister Lupin?"  
"Yes, I do," he said, feeling very guilty.  
"They must have been great friends," she said, turning away from him, "Great friends, indeed."  
Remus had then looked to his old teacher, and smiled broadly. For the first time since James's death.  
A clatter of silverware from farther down the table came, and Snape stood.  
"Again, Minerva, he weasles his way out of punishment!" he shouted. The Hall went dead silent. The students looked to where Snape was now walking towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, pointing a bony finger at Lupin.  
"I told you that one day I'd tell them!" Snape howled, now taking Remus by the scruff of his torn robes, and shaking him, "I told you I'd tell them!"  
"Severus, please sit down," Minerva had ordered him, "You're disturbing the children!"  
"I WILL NOT SIT DOWN!" Snape shouted, "I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SILENCED! THREATENED! BEATEN! AND ACCUSED! AND THESE PUNKS GO FREE!"  
"Did Professor Snape just say 'punks?'" A boy by the name of Lee Jordan laughed.  
"Severus," Lupin said, very calm, "You will not harm me in any way by telling them the truth."  
"Don't give me your passive responses, wolf," Snape sneered under his breath, and then looked to the rest of the Hall, "STUDENTS, YOUR BELOVED PROFESSOR LUPIN IS NONE OTHER THAN A WEREWOLF!"  
A silence fell over the Great Hall, and Lupin looked out to his students who had trusted him and had befriended him. All of their faces were in shock. But Remus didn't falter. He stood tall, in front of the gawking audience, and excused himself from the table.  
He had left that very day.  
Another year in his cabin, trying to hold onto the new truth that he had discovered. Sirius was innocent. Peter was alive, and out there biding his time. Harry was healthy, happy, and well off.  
It wouldn't be another year until he saw Sirius. It would be during a storm that his convict friend would show up on his doorstep.  
It was an evening that was like every other evening. Remus had sat down on his one chair in his one main room to read a book. He couldn't remember what book it was now, but he remembered it was a book. Some story about a man and a monster, and how one truly was the man and the other truly was the monster. It was an odd book.  
The knock had come at the door, and he had put the novel down and walked to the door. He opened it, and saw Sirius standing there, fumbling to keep afoot. His old friend smiled, exhausted, drenched ...  
"Ah, Remus, you still ... you still live here?"  
And then he had collapsed.  
  
When Sirius came to, he found himself in Remus's bed, and Remus sitting on a chair he had pulled up to the side of the mattress. He smiled at his old friend, and then held his head in pain.  
"What happened?" Sirius asked.  
Remus shrugged, "I was about to ask the same thing to you. You look like a drowned rat."  
"Well," he said, trying to hoist himself up to a sitting position, "If you hadn't had a decent meal in fourteen years, you wouldn't look too great yourself."  
Remus gave a small smile, and stood, walking to the kitchen, "Well, we can remedy that."  
  
"Prongs never died, Moony."  
Remus had lost his concentration on eating his dinner, and looked to his old friend. He nodded, "Yes, Harry told me about his Patronus. It takes the shape of a stag."  
"I don't care if it takes the shape of a cow!" Sirius said, laughing, "I wasn't talking about his Patronus."  
Sirius had waited for Remus to ask something or reply to this, but he didn't. So he had just continued.  
"His son looks astonishingly like him."  
"Except for the eyes," Remus corrected.  
"Yeah, the eyes," Sirius said, laughing, "Too bad the left one doesn't twitch."  
They both laughed, and Sirius had given a tired sigh.  
"Sometimes I think it's James, come back to us," he said in a hushed tone, "Sometimes I forget his name's even Harry."  
"Well, it is," Remus said, now somewhat peeved, and took a drink from his mug, "And they are two very different people."  
"Sometimes I don't think so."  
"Harry's quieter. He doesn't continuously talk like someone else we knew."  
"But he's a troublemaker."  
"True," Remus said, a smile breaking through the worn mask, "Very true."  
Sirius looked to that old mask, and then seemed to ponder for a moment before taking a bite of his dinner.  
"What happened to you," he asked, and Remus looked to him for an explanation.  
"What do you mean?"  
Sirius shrugged, with the same mannerisms as he had had back at Hogwarts, "You're different. What happened after ... that night."  
Remus and Sirius had never spoken of their twelve years. They had only told Harry of the good past, and of that night. But they had never spoken of Remus's years or Sirius's pain between each other.  
"It was a long time ago," Remus stalled.  
"Well, then it won't be painful to tell, now will it," Sirius said, sitting back in his seat.  
Remus sighed, and took another stab at his potato.  
"Come on, Moony," Sirius said.  
"I worked for the Ministry for a while," Remus said, "Then went on to teaching up north. But not for very long periods of time. I couldn't. The Wolfsbane Potion hadn't come, and whenever anyone found me ..." he trailed off, and then gave a small laugh, "And then I thought I may open a shop somewhere. But I never did."  
"And then?"  
"Time went by. Twelve years."  
Sirius laughed, and leaned back in his chair. Such a familiar stance that Remus thought he'd never see again, "Well, you are a really poor storyteller. Always were."  
"And what's that supposed to mean?"  
"Don't you remember that time that you got pecked on the lips by Fergie Mattison? And all you could tell us is that she had ... what were the words you used ... I believe they were ... put her lips up to yours and made a puckering sound. Then she stepped back and turned a bright shade of orange?"  
"Red," Remus corrected, taking another bite of food even though he wasn't hungry. Eating had become busy work for the two of them.  
"So what happened, Moony? Did you meet anyone? Have any adventures? Anything? Did you do anything?"  
"I tried to forget," he said, looking at Sirius quietly.  
Sirius raised his brow, and nodded, "Well, then."  
Remus didn't say anything, and stood to get seconds from the counter.  
"Always better to run away from a situation, I guess," Sirius said coldly, coming down on all four of the chair's legs, "That's the noble thing to do. The Peter thing to do."  
"I meant that I tried to forget you," Remus said, those words burning in him, "I hated you."  
"Lovely," Sirius sighed.  
"I never forgot James."  
"Not an easy person to forget, wouldn't you say."  
"And Harry," Remus said, faltering for the first time in his voice, "I always wondered where he had gone to."  
"Well, give the wolf a biscuit," Sirius said, as Remus sat down again at the table.  
"Sirius, they told me you had killed them," Remus said, exasperated, "Everyone was gone. They were all dead. You were in prison and a traitor. What else was I supposed to do? Dwell on memories?"  
"That's what I did," Sirius said, pounding the table. His eyes had grown dark and hollow again, "I did it for twelve damn long years. Memories were the only things I had, Lupin."  
Remus glared from behind his ever worn mask, "Well, I had freedom."  
They didn't exchange a word for a while, and they continued their meal for a few minutes in a rapid angered pace, before Remus said, completely reserved:  
"And what would you have done, Sirius?"  
"I would have hunted the murderer down, even if they were in Azkaban. I would have killed them. I would have found Harry and taken him away from those Muggles. That's what I would have done," Sirius said.  
"Well, we saw what hunting the murderer down did for everyone, now didn't we," Remus said, folding his hands calmly, "It landed you a decade in prison, and it let the killer get away. Harry grew up without a godfather. Without any of us."  
"He would of anyway."  
"Guess we'll never know, will we."  
"Who are you to play saint, Remus?" Sirius said, his eyes growing darker, "You didn't live through what I did. You never got to see them laying there, dead in a heap. You never saw Peter after that night. You didn't go through what I went through! Don't you judge my actions, Lupin!"  
Remus was quiet for a moment, and then saw something flicker in Sirius's eye. It hadn't been there before, all of those years ago when he had known the happy little boy. But it had been flickering in there, in that blackened pupil ever since his return from the grave.  
This man had lost something. His light had dimmed a long time ago. Now the light was filled with hate and vengeance. But it was also filled with madness and fear.  
Remus was no longer the monster. Sirius had now taken that role.  
"And you've changed," Remus said simply.  
Sirius stopped for a moment, unsure of his actions. He knew Remus was right.  
The man's eyes softened, and then he had cleared his throat, "People change," was the only thing he said before returning to his plate.  
  
It was later that night that Remus dreamed of Harry and James and Lily. They were all sitting around that lake at Hogwarts, laughing and talking in excited voices. Like they had never been separated.  
He awoke to the fireplace's light and heat, the sound of the logs crackling and burning in the flames. He didn't remember making the fire. He never used that old thing, in fear it'd burn the house down.  
But he understood when he saw the man sitting in his only chair, legs under him and his head resting in his hands. Sirius's eyes never left the fire. He just stared into the flames, his dark eyes as dead as their master's soul.  
"Padfoot ..." Remus said quietly, and Sirius didn't respond. He only stared into the fire, the flames dancing in his blackened pupils. The red light shining on his long, greasy hair. Remus's clothes, which he had changed into hours before, were too big for him. And he looked like a skeleton wrapped in sheets, ready to enter the gates of Hell and facing the fires of his fate.  
But unlike this scenario, this man had already entered his hell. He was already embracing his fate.  
"I would have never survived my life without James Potter," Sirius said, in his cracked and worn voice, "I was destined for things. Horrible things. And this boy came from no where and changed the course of my fate. He built a new road for me. He showed me that there was something more to life than what my family had taught me."  
Remus sat up in his bed, and looked to his old friend. But he didn't say a word.  
"He was my brother. He was more than a brother. He was all I had," Sirius said, "He was the only one who ever understood me, or ever cared to try. When he would win a Quidditch game, I would feel his pride swell up inside of me. When he would score on one of Hall's exams, I would see that perfect mark on my paper. And when he ..." his voice cracked again, and he looked into the fire more intently than he had before, "When he ... met Lily, I fell in love with her as well. Even Harry ... I considered him my own son when he was born. And when he died ..." Sirius covered his face with his hands, and Remus looked away. He pretended not to hear Sirius's quiet, almost deaf tears.  
It was a few moments before the defeated man could regain his strength and continue on, "When he died ... I died with him.  
"I remember that night. Just as clear as when it happened. I played it over and over in my head for those horrible nights in Azkaban. The dementors saw to that, I assure you. They particularly liked the memory that caused me the most pain.  
"I woke from a nightmare. I remember the feeling that came over me after I woke up. It told me something was wrong. Something had happened. So I went to my scheduled check up on Peter. Just like I did every few days. And I remember walking into that house of Pettigrew. And seeing everything in order, but no Peter. I searched the rooms. I looked and I looked ... but he wasn't there. He had left hours before then. It was then that I knew. I knew there was something wrong.  
"I ran to the Potter's house. And ..." He faltered again, and his eyes glazed over. As if he was watching a scene play out far away from the fire's flames, and far away from Remus's wooden walls. He had gone back to a time that Remus had never seen. A nightmare that only lived in Sirius's heart and memories.  
"The rubble was green. There wasn't a house there," he said, in a hoarse voice, "All of their things were scattered, just ... glowing ... green ... And ..." he trailed off again, and his eyes narrowed. His shoulders sagged, "And then there he was.  
"When I saw James," he said, and Remus could feel his own tears fighting to come to his eyes, "I couldn't register anything. I held him in my arms. He ... he was so cold. And his eyes were staring at me. His lips were blue. I ... I just held him there, twisting his hair in my fist. Screaming and crying, trying to get him to wake up. But I had already failed him. I had let him die. I had breached the pact we made. I had let him go. And now I had to suffer. Now this was my punishment.  
"I don't know how long I sat there, with his head in my lap. I can still see his dead grey skin, still glowing that green. And I can still see Lily's hair. And then ... and then they took Harry away from me ...  
"Peter blew up the street," he said, "I thought he had killed himself. And ... and there was fire. There was a lot of fire. And screaming. And concrete flying. And sparks. And bodies ...  
"Sirius," Remus said, the tears now rolling down his face silently.  
"I don't really remember very much after that," Sirius said, ignoring Remus and becoming stronger in tone, "But I do remember everything that's important. I remember Frank. I remember my cousin walking past my cell. I remember the dreams I had about Harry. Those were good dreams. They kept me filled with hope, you know. They kept me going. I kept pretending that maybe one day he'd find out the truth. And then he'd come and get me from that place. Well, part of it happened.  
"You're right Remus," Sirius said, never turning from the fire, "I have changed. When a man goes into the pit of Hell, there's no redeeming him. And I have seen Hell. The only thing that keeps me alive is that boy. Is Harry."  
Remus didn't speak a word. And the two sat there for a long time, tears running down their faces but never crying out.  
It was a while before Sirius gave a little laugh and said, "I'm not going to make it through this war, Remus."  
Remus looked up yet again to the shadows dancing across his old friend's face, "Don't talk like that. Of course you are."  
"No, I'm not," Sirius said, matter-of-factly, "You see, James steered me away from the fate that I was to have had. But in doing so, he steered me right in the direction of another," and for the first time during the conversation, he turned in his chair to look at Remus, "You remember that field that the centaurs built? The one we went and visited when we were in school?"  
"Yes, I do," Remus said.  
"James told me what you two found out about it," Sirius said, "How it's supposed to show your destiny or something like that."  
"Something like that," Remus repeated.  
"Well, I know what James saw," he said, looking back to the fire, now dying slowly, "He saw a white stag, glowing green. He saw his death."  
There was a silence that flew over the cabin, and Remus shook his head slowly, "There's no such thing as fate."  
"Do you want to know what I saw?" Sirius asked.  
Remus didn't answer, believing he didn't have a choice.  
"I saw a boy, draped in a black robe," Sirius said, "He was standing off in the distance, in the fields surrounding us. And this robe kept falling in front of him, like he was behind a sort of a ... a curtain? A drape? And he was screaming my name. Just screaming it. Over and over again. When it happened, I was sure that it was James who I was seeing. It looked too much like him. Identical to him. When I thought of it in prison, I thought it was foretelling his death. But now I realize that it wasn't James who was screaming."  
"It was Harry," Remus finished.  
"I will die, Remus," Sirius said, "And I won't ever see a world without Voldemort."  
Remus sat there, on his bed, for a good hour, waiting for Sirius to say anything else. It was around midnight that the fire died out, and he realized that Sirius had fallen asleep in the chair.  
He lay back down, and tried to forget all that Sirius had said.  
  
"All right, let's see here," Padfoot said, sitting down on the porch with his list and quill, "The roster of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, as of 1980. We have to get all these people rounded up in how much time?"  
"A month," Remus said, bringing his axe down on a piece of wood, "Dumbledore's orders."  
Sirius nodded, and then sighed, "Well, no one ever said that Dumbledore understood time management, now did they."  
"Who's the first one on the list?" Remus sighed, annoyed by Sirius's lip. But it was good to see some sort of a sign of the boy he once knew, instead of the man who he had housed last night.  
"Well, it's in alphabetical order, of course," Sirius laughed, "This means that Black, Sirius is the first candidate. Well, bully for him. I believe he's still alive and kicking."  
"That could be debated," Remus muttered under his breath.  
"Bones, Edgar," he said.  
"No, he died."  
"When?"  
"A while ago," he said, "Don't you remember? He was that spy that went missing."  
"Next up on the victims list ..." Sirius said, crossing off the name of Bones, "We have a lucky man named Caradoc Dearborn."  
"Also dead," Remus said, bringing down the axe again.  
"We have none other than a Diggle Dedalus. Yeah, he's still alive. Showing up at random bars at random times. I've seen him around. We'll head over to the Leaky Cauldron and see him after this list check, all right?"  
"Who's next?"  
"We have an Elphias Doge," Sirius laughed, "Ah, him. How I missed old Elphias."  
"He's alive," Remus said, "He lives over in Cornwall now. We'll go see him after Diggle."  
"And next is Dumbledore. Don't think he'll be wanting to join the Order," Sirius said sarcastically, and looked to the next name, "Aberforth Dumbledore."  
"Never heard of him," Remus said, coming down with the axe again.  
"Well, he's a Dumbledore. His relation'll probably take care of him."  
"Next?"  
"Benjy Fenwick."  
"He got killed that night we went out to fight the giants," Remus said, shuddering, "I remember it very well."  
"Arabella Figg?"  
"Yes, she's the one who watches Harry. His secret keeper," Remus said, readying another wood block to be chopped.  
"Hagrid, Rubeus?"  
"Well, of course."  
"Alice Longbottom," Sirius said, striking her name off, "And ... Frank ..."  
Remus looked to Sirius, while he took the quill and scratched the name out.  
"And I don't know about this next one," Sirius laughed, not commenting on the Longbottoms, "Always sort of struck me as a suspicious man. Might be a spy for Voldemort."  
"Who?" Remus asked.  
"Remus J. Lupin," Sirius said, his eyes flaring with that young spirit again, "Don't give me that look, Moony. You know I'm joshing you."  
"Just keep reading the list."  
"Minerva McGonagall."  
"Check."  
"Marlene McKinnon."  
Remus slowed his axe again, and shook his head, "She was killed."  
"All right," Sirius said, detaching himself from those names that he had known and befriended, "Dorcas Meadows?"  
"Dorcas died when they attacked Headquarters."  
"Thank you for telling me, like I didn't already know," Sirius said, scratching her name out, "Alastor Moody," he laughed, "Hey, Moony, good ol' Moody."  
"Yes, I know."  
"You know, I saw him over at the school this year."  
"Really? Did you now?"  
"He didn't see me," Sirius said, leaning on the post of the porch, "Which was probably a good thing."  
"Why so?" Remus took another wood block.  
Sirius looked to the block, and then to the axe, "Why are you doing that?"  
"Doing what?" Remus said, throwing the axe down on the block.  
"Chopping wood," Sirius said, "We're trying to make a list here, and that's becoming very annoying."  
"Just keep," Remus instructed him, and Sirius sighed, and sat back down on the step.  
"Peter Petti ..."  
"Why do you do that?" Remus snapped, throwing his axe down and glaring at Sirius.  
Sirius looked surprised. His lower lip curled into a smile, "Do what?"  
"You know damn well who's dead and who isn't, as well as I do," Remus said, marching over to him, "Why do you have to read every name?"  
"You just told me to keep reading!" Sirius said, as Remus snatched the parchment, "And did you just say damn?"  
"Here, let me go down the list for you," Remus said, "Gideon Prewett. Blown apart by Dolohov's men."  
"Remus ..."  
"Fabian Prewett," he continued over Sirius, "Died alongside his brother. Care for me to remind you of them? They were the ones who bought socks for Harry for his baptism. They toasted to Lily's pregnancy at the Christmas party. And they were to be said heroes. They died like heroes, they did."  
"Just give me back the list," Sirius said, but Remus took his quill and scratched their names out.  
"No, we're almost done with the list," Remus said, "And look who's next. Lily Potter. She died defending her son. You remember her, don't you Sirius?"  
"Remus, what is wrong with you."  
"SHE was the one who called YOU her child's godfather. SHE was the one YOU called Morgana."  
Sirius's eyes hollowed, and he took back the list, "I'm aware, Lupin."  
"Well, so am I," Remus said, shoving the list back at him.  
Sirius's eyes narrowed dangerously, and then took the list from him, "James Potter," he said under his breath, and his quill poised above the name. Remus froze on his way back to the dead stump and the axe. He could hear the scratching of Sirius's ink on the parchment, and he knew that it was very true now.  
James Potter was truly dead.  
  
It was later that day that Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived at the cabin. Following him was Mundungus Fletcher. Ms. Figg. Elphias. Emmeline Vance.  
They all looked older, and worn out from the world. Yet the light in their eyes were still there in the younger ones. They had made it through the war alive, without too many scars. Lupin, on the other hand, they were all very surprised to see how much he had changed.  
Sirius, they weren't surprised at his shift in spirit. He had been through an ordeal unlike the rest of them. But Sirius, to his friend's surprise, was very good at covering up his pain in front of the general crowds. Yes, the pain was there. But he wanted no sympathy. He didn't want a, "Sorry about James, mate." He wanted to be left alone or laughed with. Nothing else.  
When they all had arrived at the cabin, except for Dumbledore and Mad Eye Moody, it was apparent that they were going to need more recruits. And the recruits came. Remus now remembered one particular girl that he and Sirius had gone to see in private.  
"Nymphadora Tonks," Remus read as she opened the door to her small flat.  
"Tonks," the girl said, sporting the oddest hairstyle he had ever seen, "Just call me Tonks. I hate that stupid name my mum gave me."  
Remus looked to Sirius, raised a brow, and then looked back to the punk rocker in front of them, "Well, she certainly takes after you," he muttered, before adding to the girl, "Tonks, right. May we come in? We are here with a message from an Albus Dumbledore."  
"Ah, the Headmaster up at the school?" Tonks said, letting the two of them into her living room, "Yeah, me boss ain't too happy with his lot. Fudge says they're conspirin' against him and all that. I think it's bull, personally, but hey. What did I ever know? Oops!" A vase went clattering to the floor as she elbowed it in attempts to shut the large front door, "Don't mind that, I'll get it later," she said as Remus went to help clean it up, "Just take a seat, and I'll put on a pot of ... what do old men like you drink? Tea?"  
Remus gave Sirius another look, and then nodded, "Tea is fine, thank you."  
After Tonks had managed to murder three teapots, she finally brought out cola cans, and handed them to her two visitors.  
"Cola, it's the wave of the future," she said, sipping hers, "Did they have cola when you lot were young?"  
"Tonks, you have been chosen as a candidate for a resistance that is forming," Remus started, setting his can down. He tried to remember what Albus told him and the boys when they joined the Order. Nothing was coming to mind. All he could recall is shaking from the Crucio spell, trying not to show how much pain he truly was in. And then James had stood up and left. And Sirius had followed him. And then he had handed them his soul over for life. And here he was. Nothing else came to mind.  
"Well, all business and no talk," Tonks said, looking at Lupin as if she had never quite seen something like him before, "I see. Well, then," she said, her purple hair quickly turning to a brown haired bun. Her young face contorted into an old school marm, and she began to resemble Professor McGonagall, "Yes, what can I do for you."  
Lupin looked shocked to see this change take place, but Sirius, who hadn't said a word upon arriving, wasn't surprised at all. In fact, a small smile escaped onto his face.  
"Your mother was right," he said in his cracked voice, "You really are a gifted child."  
Tonks looked startled to Sirius, and the professor disappeared and was replaced by the punk rocker once more, "How do you know my mum?"  
"Andromeda?" Sirius said, laughing, "She was the only one of my cousins I could stand."  
Tonks froze, and then closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she had taken on the look of the younger Sirius. Probably from a picture her mother had kept in an album. Remus stared at the girl, as if haunted by a past memory. Sirius was also startled.  
"You're Cousin Sirius, aren't you," she said, her voice one of Sirius's young unworn one, "You're ... you're the murderer we've been looking for."  
Her appearance changed to the crazed Sirius, the one who had been pictured on the Wanted posters. Sirius looked away, and nodded.  
"Yes," he said, "I am."  
Tonks stood, and pointed her wand to him, "Stay back! Both of you!"  
"Now, Miss Tonks," Remus said, standing up to face her, "If you would let us explain ..."  
"I don't need explaining, you are both under arrest," she said, turning back into herself, except this time looking very authoritative with blonde hair and a Ministry uniform, "For thirteen accounts of murder ..."  
"Tonks," Sirius sighed, as if he had been through this scene a good few times by now, "Just sit down ..."  
"If you knew the whole story ..."  
"Don't come any closer! I'll call the Ministry, and my backup will be here in less than five seconds," she said, "Shacklebolt will be very pleased to know you've been caught ..."  
"Shacklebolt's already here," Sirius said, putting his hands up, "He's the one who drove us here. He's downstairs if you need proof."  
Tonks stopped, "You're bluffing."  
"I'm not."  
"He's not."  
"You are," Tonks said, raising her wand, "I may be young, but I'm not stupid."  
"Your mother knows me, Tonks," Sirius said, his hands still up in retreat, "She knows I hated Voldemort."  
"Don't say that name!"  
"She knows me," he said, "If you had known me, you would have known that, too! I was blown off the map, just like your mother."  
Tonks hesitated, and then narrowed her eyes, "I've seen the evidence. I've seen what Longbottom left the department in the files ..."  
"It doesn't add up," Sirius said, "Think about it, Tonks. You're supposed to be the smart one of Andromeda's kids. Think about it, for God's sake! Peter was backed into a corner when he was the one going after me. Does that make sense, Tonks? Does it?"  
Tonks thought for a moment, and then her eyes grew wide, "Oh my ..." her wand dropped, and her jaw fell, "I ... I ..."  
Sirius, looking somewhat relieved, sat back down on the couch.  
"Have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?" Remus said, not wanting another interruption.  
Tonks, still staring at Sirius in amazement, nodded her head slowly.  
"We are regrouping," Remus said, taking his seat next to Sirius, "And we are recruiting. Albus would like you to join us. You have an amazing record with the Ministry, and your special ... capabilities ... could be a future asset to the Order."  
And they had explained it all to this young girl, not so different from themselves when they had begun their journey through war. She listened with fascination, not saying a word. And when she finally did speak, she gave a little smile.  
"Where do I sign up?"  
  
The cabin was growing quite crowded now. A good fifty leaders from the growing Order were present, and they had bound ties with a good hundred others in the United Kingdom and beyond. It was nothing like it was in the first war, and Remus felt his heart lift. They had a chance. They may win this time, for good. And no one may die.  
It was the day that Alastor Moody joined them that they had all been anxious for. It came sometime in June. He had been treated for the abuse he had been put through the past year, and Sirius could be seen pacing the porch outside the cramped cabin. Fifty people living out of a small one man abode. It wasn't easy to get privacy.  
"Nervous?" Remus said, budging his way out of the door and shutting it behind him.  
"Nah, not at all," Sirius said, crossing his arms and looking out to the woods, "Not the slightest bit."  
"I saw Frank's Pensieve," Remus said, taking a seat in the chair, "I know what happened."  
"Good, then you'd know why I've been pacing," Sirius said, leaning on the banister, "I haven't talked to the man for a good fourteen years. Excuse me if I wish it was longer."  
"You reckon he's going to hex you?" Remus laughed.  
Sirius shuddered, "No, I reckon he is going to do more than hex me."  
  
Finally, the day came when the first Order meeting would take place. Chairs were pulled into Remus's front room, and the good half a hundred members crammed into the tight space, leaving room for their speaker to appear. Dumbledore was busy, securing other ties in other parts of the country, trying to run the school, etc. It would be Moody addressing them.  
It was around noon that he apparated in Remus's kitchen.  
"What's this!? I could apparate into the Order Headquarters! Did I not teach that boy anything about vigilance?! REMUS LUPIN!"  
Remus sighed, and walked into the kitchen, "Good to see you again, too, Alastor."  
Sirius, who was sitting on Remus's bed, braced himself for the beating of his life. He watched in discomfort as Moody and Remus came from the kitchen. Mad Eye looked furious.  
"What is this? A sleepover?" he shouted at the members, "Did you lot not put one single hex or jinx to secure this place? Do I have to do everything for you!"  
"We've only been here about a week," Elphias said, "Don't shout so, Alastor. We're not children."  
"When one acts like a child, he will be treated like one!" Moody said, and then he took his place in front of the Order, "Now, I don't care who's here and who isn't here. I don't care what your stories are. And I really couldn't give a damn why you want to fight Voldemort. The important thing is that you are here. And that's all I want to know. Now, obviously the first line of business is where to set up Headquarters, since this woodpile isn't large enough to even hold a meeting in. Whose bright idea was it to meet here? Lupin?"  
"It was Albus," Remus said from the back of the room.  
"Well, he's a genius, but he's old," Moody said, and then swiveled his eye to look at his audience, "Anyone have any bright ideas on where to go? Anyone?"  
The new members were taken back from his opening speech. Their first impression of Moody had hit them hard in the face. The returning members were quiet, not wanting to converse with the likes of Mad Eye at the moment. Remus remembered seeing Sirius look from person to person, and then to Moody. He was thinking to himself, contemplating things in his head.  
"Well, isn't this a productive lot," Moody muttered, "Anyone? Any one of you have a thought to share with the class? Or should I just start pulling names out of a hat!"  
"I've got a place."  
Moody looked to the back of the room, where Sirius was standing, hands shoved in pockets. He had that look of complete arrogance on his face. Remus groaned, and looked away.  
"Yes, Mr. Black," Moody said, his voice unfaltering, "Where do you propose?"  
Sirius, with a quick look of surprise on his face, recovered himself and said, "My mum died a few years ago. I'm the only Black left, therefore my old childhood home is under my name. It's large, probably could be called a mansion ..."  
"Where is it?"  
"London," he said, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It would need a little cleaning, but ..."  
"Perfect, London," Moody said, clasping his hands together, and turning to the rest of the room, "London it is. I will meet you all at this Grimmauld Place one week from today. I want the place sparkling and shining. And if I can apparate into the walls, you all will be waking up with a horrible Congestive jinx. Keep that in mind."  
And he walked to the back of the room, back into the kitchen. Remus met him, and showed him to where he had come from. But Moody had stopped for a moment, after Emmeline had taken over the meeting, and he had doubled back to look at the room. At a certain man now sitting back on the bed. His face was expressionless, and he just looked at him for a moment before continuing into the next room with Remus.  
"Nice place," Moody huffed before disapparating, and Remus quietly smiled to himself as he made his way back into the main room.  
  
It had been a good two weeks later that they had met again. This time, it was at Grimmauld Place. That house that Sirius hated more than life itself. There was a conference room off to the left of the main staircase where they all met. This time, not all of the members were present. Only Sirius was living out of the Headquarters, since he had no where else to go. He had much rather liked it at Remus's place, Remus could tell.  
It had been three days before the meeting that the Weasleys had moved their things from the Burrow and had made themselves at home in the mansion. Dumbledore had thought it better if they moved. Hermione Granger came with them.  
It seemed as if Dumbledore expected great things from Ron Weasley, Hermione, and Harry. He pushed the three of them just like he had pushed Remus and Sirius and the others. Why else would two underage wizards be invited to Headquarters?  
Lupin had greeted them at the door, Mrs. Weasley towing Ginny, the youngest of the children, behind her. She was growing up so fast now. She was to turn fourteen soon, and she looked almost like a younger Lily. Not as pretty, mind you. But there was a twinkle in her eye that reminded Remus of his lost friend. The red hair. The pale skin.  
The two twins Frederick and George had come as well. Lupin hadn't gotten to know them as well as he could have when he was at Hogwarts. But their reputation preceded them. James would have gotten along fine with the two of them.  
Then Charlie and Bill, who wouldn't be staying at Grimmauld Place, but had wanted to join the Order. Bill, working at Gringotts. Charlie, working with dragons.  
Mr. Weasley shook Remus's hand as they made their way into the front hall, "Good morning, Mr. Lupin," he said very pleasantly, "I hope we didn't wake you."  
"No, not at all," he said, showing them in, "And call me Remus."  
"Arthur," he said, shaking his hand again, "And this is my wife, Molly. I believe you've met our children."  
"With pleasure," Lupin said, nodding towards Ron. Ron dropped his bags, and ran to him.  
"Professor Lupin!" he said, and Hermione who was halfway up the stairs outside with her suitcase ran into the entrance hall and grabbed him in a hug.  
"Professor!" she said, "You're okay!" and he gave out a small laugh.  
"I'm not a professor anymore," he said, pushing the young lady off of him, "I haven't been for a while now."  
"Bloody hell," Ron said, "You're in the Order?"  
"Good to meet you, Remus," Molly said, shaking hands with him while trying to balance twelve bags and a moaning Ginny, "Is Harry here, yet?"  
"No," Remus said, and then looked to Ron and Hermione, "And you are not allowed to write to him yet, is that understood?"  
"What?" Ron said, "Why not?"  
"Don't you ask questions, Ronald Weasley," Molly said, shoving her family up the stairs, "The man said you couldn't, so you can't!"  
"I'll show you to your rooms," Remus said, following behind the parade of red hair.  
When they reached the next landing, he opened the first door, and led Hermione and Ginny inside, "This is your room, Miss Granger and Miss Weasley. There is some parchment there for you to write a letter to your parents if you want to, Hermione. We have owls you may use. Lunch will be ready in about an hour or so."  
"Thank you," the two girls said politely, and shut their door.  
"Next, Fred, George, Ron, here is your room," Lupin said, and then continued on as the boys jumped into their large bedroom, "And here is yours, Arthur and Molly. Anyone else that we need to accommodate for?"  
Molly's face broke for a moment, but she regained her bubbly persona before she could be questioned, and shook her head, "No. That's the whole ... that's the whole ..."  
"That's the whole family," Arthur said darkly, and led his wife into the room, "Thank you, Remus."  
"Much obliged," Remus said, and the door shut in his face. He sighed, and made his way down the hall and down the stairs once more. He had to ready the house for the meeting.  
  
It was a large table, circular, and with twenty or so chairs. Much more concealed than the living room of Moody. The first meeting took place on a dark and cold night. Molly and Arthur with their two eldest sons were the first to arrive in the room. Then came Sirius, followed by Remus. Then Professor McGonagall, Severus, and Mundungus. Then Figg, Sturgis Podmore, Tonks, and Kingsley. Others slowly filed in until almost all of the chairs were filled. Finally, Dumbledore and Moody arrived, and took their respective seats.  
There were still four seats empty. And they would remain empty throughout the entire summer. Moody looked to those chairs, sitting in a pretty little row, and then turned away. He would never look at them again.  
"Good evening, my fellow wizards and witches," Dumbledore said, standing to address the members, "And welcome to the second official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. I would like to begin this by taking a moment of silence for those who are not with us today. Those who gave their lives fourteen years ago to a cause greater than any of us," he looked to the four chairs. Frank. Alice. James. Lily. Remus followed his glance, and then gave out another sigh. He didn't want to be reminded of who wasn't there any longer. When did that pain go away?, "And also for those who will give their lives in the days to come. Please join me in silence."  
There was a dead wave that passed over the room as everyone hung their head in respect for those who had fallen. Sirius was the quietest one of them all.  
"Thank you," Albus said, and then looked to his fellow members, "Now, onto business. For the past month, many of us have been working to great lengths to find what Voldemort may be planning. We know more than he believes us to know, and this is always a very positive thing indeed."  
"There is a great weapon," Moody said, "A weapon that could be the downfall of our world. And of people held close to the heart of the Order."  
"Now," Albus said, "Before we go any further, I wish you all to understand that any word that is muttered in this room is not taken from these walls. Molly, your children are not to know of these things. Sirius, Harry only needs to know enough to keep him out of trouble, is that understood?"  
Sirius came to a start, and looked at the Headmaster in complete shock, "What? You're not going to tell Harry any of this?"  
"Why would we," Moody said.  
"It's all about him, isn't it?" Sirius said, growing stiff, "The prophecy?"  
"Sirius," Albus said slowly, "Harry knows nothing of the prophecy."  
Sirius froze, and he looked at the Headmaster in disbelief, "He ... he doesn't know?"  
"I have tried to keep him safe," Albus said, "And I have told him as little as he needs to know. He is aware that his parents died. He is aware that Voldemort killed them, and because of his mother's love Voldemort could not kill him. There is nothing else he needs to be aware of at the present time."  
"So he knows nothing of the Order," Sirius said, "He doesn't know about what the prophecy said. He doesn't know any of that."  
"No," Albus said, "He doesn't."  
"What the hell have you been telling him for the past fourteen years!" Sirius said, slamming his hand on the table and standing up, "That he was a freak accident?! No wonder he's so oblivious to everything! First you leave him thinking he's a Muggle for ten years, and then when you finally do bring him back, you don't tell him anything!"  
"Nothing has changed, has it, Black," Snape said snidely from his seat opposite of him, "Still unable to control your anger."  
"Sirius, just sit down," Remus said, tugging him back to his seat as Sirius glared knives at Severus.  
"I love that boy as much as you do, Sirius," Dumbledore said, his eyes saddened, "And I have tried my best to protect him."  
"You can't protect him," Sirius said, "The most evil wizard to ever walk this earth is out there, waiting to kill him, and you don't tell him why."  
"He has met with Tom on three different occassions now," Albus said, "He is perfectly capable of defending himself. He is not a little boy, Sirius. He has come face to face with death itself, and is still alive to tell us about it. Now if we can continue on with the meeting," he said, taking his focus off of Sirius, "We believe we know what Voldemort is after. As Mr. Black just mentioned, the prophecy. For those of you who do not know what this prophecy is that we speak of, it was a foretelling of the events that took place on October 31st, 1981. The death of Lily and James Potter, and the end of Voldemort's reign. The prophecy also told how Voldemort could kill Harry, and that is what he is after.  
"The prophecy is recorded in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic," Albus said, tapping his wand to the air. A revolving map appeared, hovering above the table, "In the Department of Mysteries. The only persons who may retrieve a prophecy are those who the prophecy pertains to. In this case, Harry or Voldemort."  
"But Volde ... I mean, You-Know-Who couldn't go waltzing into the Ministry," Arthur said, "It would be suicide."  
"Precisely," Albus said, tapping his wand to the map again, "That is why he must use another to do his work for him, as he is prone to do."  
The map shifted into the young face of a boy with black hair and glasses. On his forehead was a scar. Sirius looked sick.  
"Harry, the only other soul allowed to retrieve his prophecy," Dumbledore said, "I have realized for quite some time now that Harry has a special connection to Tom. He is a Parselmouth, his scar hurts when Voldemort is near or when he has a heightened emotion. The two of them are connected, and have been connected since the death of his parents."  
"Are you to say that Harry and Voldemort are bonded?" Kingsley said, in fascination as if this was a very good lecture.  
"Precisely," Albus said, and the face of Harry grew smaller to reveal Voldemort's next to his, "These two souls were welded together upon Voldemort's trying to kill the boy. And from that day forward, they have never been apart. Harry has discovered this. But Tom ..."  
He broke off, and looked to the two faces now revolving in front of him, "Tom Riddle was always a resourceful young man. Even as a child, I knew that he could fix any problem. And he will find a way to fix this one he is in now. He already has returned to his natural body. He already has his closest followers around him once again. It is just a matter of time until he realizes that he has this connection to Harry. And then, he will have his most faithful servant of all."  
"What do you mean?" Remus asked.  
Dumbledore's eyes grew dark, and he waved his wand. The two faces came together, and welded into one.  
"He will control Harry," he said, "And when that happens, he will be able to take over his mind and lead him to the Department of Mysteries. Harry will hand deliver the prophecy to him. And then all will be lost."  
"This is bullcock," Sirius said, fear rising in his face, "Harry's too smart for that."  
"It has already started to happen," Dumbledore said, very gravely, "That is why we cannot tell him any more than he needs to know. I do not want to frighten him. We just need to make sure that he is healthy and alive. That is the best thing for him now. Harry also posseses a great weapon that Voldemort will never have. And that is love."  
"Ouch! Get off my foot, George!"  
The Order turned around, and all looked to the door. Moody's eye swiveled to look through the oak wood, and he gave out a roar.  
"WEASLEYS!" he howled, and jumped over the table and slammed the door open.  
There stood Fred and George, with a new invention of theirs. It looked like long ears on elastic string, and they were knelt outside the door, the inventions stuck to it. They backed away, screaming when Moody towered over them, and Molly screeched.  
"FRED! GEORGE! GET UP TO YOUR ROOM NOW!"  
"We didn't hear anything, Mum!" Fred whined, scrambling to his feet, "I swear. They don't work properly!"  
"We still need to get a few kinks out, you know," George said.  
"NOW! UP! ROOM! NOW! GEORGE! FRED! ROOM! UP! NOW!"  
The twins scurried up the stairs, and Moody glared at Arthur.  
"You better watch your children closer," he said, grumbling and shutting the doors again, "Or else you'll be two sons short. I swear ..."  
"We will meet again in a week's time," Dumbledore said, "Severus, will you have a report by then?"  
"Yes, Albus," Snape said, and with that, the Order stood to leave.  
"Remus, Sirius, may I speak to you in private?" Dumbledore said, and Sirius looked to Lupin, inquisitively. Remus couldn't look him in the eyes.  
The two of them, Moody, and Albus were the only ones left in the room after a while, and as soon as the last man had seen himself out, Dumbledore had looked to Sirius.  
"Sirius, I understand that you have been through more than most of us can imagine," he said, "Partially due to the failure of this Order."  
"I don't want your sympathies, Headmaster," Sirius said, "We should be taking care of Harry right now. You should have men out there surrounding that house ..."  
"And I do," Dumbledore said.  
"You keep talking about progress and how everyone's been working so hard," Sirius said accusingly, "But all I've done since I got here was sit in this house and ..."  
"Precisely," Dumbledore said.  
Sirius stopped, and looked at him, "What do you mean by that?"  
"Sirius," Remus said, folding his hands, "I told Albus about the centaur's field."  
Sirius grew still, and his dark cold eyes bore into Remus. Traitor, they said.  
"Premonitions should not be taken lightly," Dumbledore plowed on, "As you saw with your friend James."  
"Don't talk about James," Sirius snapped.  
"It is not just this news of foreshadowing that Remus alerted us to," he said, ignoring Sirius's anger, "But of the ... let us call it spontenaiety ... that you displayed here in this room today."  
Sirius didn't say anything, but just continued to glare at Remus.  
"You are right, Sirius," Dumbledore said, "The best thing right now is what is best for Harry. Now, Harry has come to regard you as a brother and a father. You are the closest parental figure he has ever encountered. And we need to continue to give him that figure. Therefore, your assignment will be to watch over Headquarters while the Order is ..."  
Sirius's face dropped from one of hate to one of pure fear. His eyes grew wide, and he stood straight up in his chair, "What?!" he exclaimed, "No, no, please, Dumbledore. Please no ..."  
"I will have to ask you to not leave the premises," he continued, "For your sake, and for Harry's. We need you here."  
"No, please, no!" Sirius said, losing all strength. He grew pale. It seemed as if Dumbledore was taking him back to Azkaban for another twelve years, "No, anything but that. I'll do anything but that! I hate this house ... I ... no ... I ... can't ..."  
"Stop blubbering, Mr. Black," Moody said.  
"Everyone has admitted a change in you since your return," Albus added, "It is not safe to entrust you with the same duties that I would entrust to Remus at this given time. Possibly in a year or so ..."  
"A YEAR!" Sirius barked, "I can't stay in this house for a YEAR! Albus, you don't understand!"  
"Sirius, calm down," Remus said, and Sirius glared at him.  
"You, you always have to go telling things to people when it's none of their ... I can't ... I ..." he said, breaking, his forehead gleaming with sweat, "I ..."  
"It is for your own good," Dumbledore said, and then rose, "Now I really must be off. Remember, no one must tell Harry of the danger he is in."  
  
"Still acting just like an arrogant teenager," Moody muttered as Remus showed him and Dumbledore out the door, "Hasn't grown up from the last time I saw him."  
"He is not a man," Dumbledore said to Moody, "He was very young when imprisoned. Remember all of the tragedy that struck him."  
"We all have tragedy," Moody snarled, and then tipped his hat to Remus, "See you soon, Lupin."  
"Goodbye, Remus," Dumbledore said, and Remus shut the door behind them.  
He looked back to the conference room, and saw Sirius standing there, glaring at him.  
"So what," he said, daring him, "You think I'm a crazed madman now as well?"  
"No, Padfoot," Remus said, "I just believe that you need to sort a few things out."  
Sirius glared at him, and then gave out a howl. He pushed a vase in the main hall off of its perch, and it went crashing to the ground.  
"They don't know what it's like!" Sirius barked, his voice echoing through the halls, "They don't know what it's like to have a house full of nightmares! And then have to be locked up inside! I'm a soldier! I should be out there, defending Harry! But instead I'm in here! In this ... hellhole ..."  
  
"I think you need to calm down," Remus said, taking out his wand and pointing it at the vase. The vase pieced itself back together and flew back onto the pedestal, "The best thing for Harry is for you to be alive and well."  
"I won't be alive long if they keep me in here like a prisoner!"  
"The only one who is keeping you prisoner is yourself, Sirius," Remus said, and then calmly left the room to help Molly with dinner.  
Sirius gave out another howl, and ran up the stairs to his room to sit with Buckbeak. He wouldn't come down to eat.  
  
A week went by, and Sirius got an urgent message from Harry. Dementors had attacked him on the streets. Dumbledore had returned from Hogwarts, and had come flying in the door in a fury. No one had seen him like that. So angered. He searched for Mundungus and found him hiding in an upper room, cowering like a coward.  
"YOUR JOB IS TO KEEP HARRY ALIVE!" Dumbledore shouted. Even Remus was taken aback at the old man's rage, "AND YOU LEFT HIM TO DEFEND HIMSELF FOR STOLEN GOODS! YOU THIEF! YOU ..."  
Sirius scribbled a note to Harry, and sent it off. So did Arthur. And then Dumbledore, after regaining his sanity, had sent a Howler to Lily's sister. It had been a while later that Moody had arrived at Headquarters, and had called Lupin to him. They had taken off in the midst of the night with Tonks, Kingsley, Elphias, Emmeline, and assorted others, and had found Harry alive and well in his uncle's house.  
As soon as Harry arrived at Headquarters, safe, everyone could breathe again. They held another meeting, and had reminded a very excited Sirius that nothing was to be said to Harry about Voldemort. Yet after the formalities had been finished at the dinner table, Sirius set his goblet down and looked to his godson. He had invited Harry to ask any questions of him about Voldemort and the Order.  
And this had sparked the fuse. Lupin had seen it growing in Molly's eyes for a long time. He knew that the Weasleys cared dearly for Harry, and had taken him in on occasion, just as James's family had to Sirius. And all of a sudden, another man had stepped into the boy's life. A godfather. Someone who had custody over him.  
Molly had taken it upon herself to stomp Sirius into the ground in front of Harry. Sirius, not one to give up in a fight, shouted right back. Harry sat there, staring at them for a time before Lupin made the peace and invited Harry to ask whatever he wished. Sirius was content telling Harry parts that he was allowed to tell, and Molly was content on Sirius not telling Harry parts he was not allowed to tell. Harry went to bed, having a better idea of what was going on in his life. But the war had only begun.  
"You do not patronize me in front of my godson!" Sirius said, storming into the kitchen after the children had been put to sleep. Molly and Remus were washing dishes, and Molly looked fit to burst into tears, "Harry is my responsibility by law! His father left him to me! It is MY job to protect him and to inform him of ..."  
"His father is dead!" Molly said, slamming a plate down, "For the past fifteen years, he hasn't had anyone there for him! Arthur and I have watched over him! We've given him a home! A warm bed! Home cooked meals! Other than us, he had no one!"  
"HE HAS ME!" Sirius barked, "HE'S HAD ME!"  
"It's awfully hard to be a godfather when you're in prison, now isn't it," Molly said tersely, going back to the dishes.  
Sirius's eyes hollowed, and Remus looked to the floor. Here he goes again, he thought.  
"You leave my past out of this, Molly," Sirius said, on the verge of exploding, "I am trying to do my best for the boy. He ..."  
"Sirius," Remus said, interrupting him before he could go too far, "Just stop. For one moment, both of you stop bickering."  
Sirius looked at him, wide eyed. How dare he interrupt him!  
"Now," Remus continued, "You both love Harry very much. You both feel responsible for him. Now this is understandable from both sides. Molly, you have become very close to him through your children. You opened your house to him when no one else would. Now, Sirius," he said, turning to his friend, "Yes, he is James's son. We both feel a sort of obligation towards him just for that fact. And I know you were closer to James than I, and one of his final requests was that you took care of Harry. I know. But you must realize that James wasn't planning on you being ... away ... for such a long time. Yes, you do hold legal rights to him and what he does. Yes, he reveres you. But you must realize that he has had a life before you that did not include us. I am not blaming this on your actions after James's death. I am not blaming anyone. I am just honestly saying that there are more people in the world that care about Harry than just you."  
"Do you?" Sirius said, accusingly, "You seem to just brush him aside like the other three."  
"This isn't about me, Sirius," Remus said.  
"You're damn right I care about him!" Sirius said, "I'd die without him! I'm going on Dumbledore's damn orders for his sake!"  
"You didn't go on them tonight too well," Molly huffed.  
"Now Molly," Remus said, turning to Molly, "You must realize that there is a life Harry has that you are not a part of. Yes, Harry had a father. And a mother. And we knew them. We were the family he was to have had. And James did turn over the rights of a guardian to Sirius many years ago, even before Harry was born. You must realize that Sirius has all the right to say what he pleases to his godson by law. It does not mean that he should," Remus said, eyeing Sirius, "But he can."  
Molly looked to Sirius, who was now silent from what Remus had said. She sighed, and set the dishes down in the sink.  
"Sirius, I do apologize for my behavior this evening," she said, extending her hand, "But you must understand that I care for Harry as well. He's like a son to me. He's my son's best friend."  
"Well," Sirius said, glaring at her hand, "He's my best friend's son."  
And he walked out of the room.  
  
A year had passed. The children had gone to school, the Order had continued to function. They started working on blueprints for a new plan. They put themselves to good use. And all the while, Sirius stayed inside, away from the world. Whenever Lupin would come visit him, he would become cheery for that instant, and invite him to play cards, chess, anything. When anyone stepped in the door, he leapt for joy. During Christmas, he was happy again, singing carols and hanging garland on the stairway. But then it was back to dreary old Padfoot, flomping around the house like the dead.  
It was a year after they had arrived at Grimmauld Place that their worst fears came true. Remus remembered it well.  
He had fallen asleep after a chess game with Sirius. Sirius was upstairs, tending to one of Buckbeak's wings. Somehow the bird had injured itself. He had been in the middle of a dream about chess pieces and house elfs when Snape's voice echoed through the room.  
"Lupin!"  
Remus opened his eyes, and saw Snape's head floating there above him, illuminated in red.  
"Hello, Severus," Remus yawned, "What's wrong?"  
"Is Black with you?" Snape hissed.  
"No, he's upstairs tending to Buckbeak," he said, "Why? What's happened?"  
"Are you positively sure he's upstairs?"  
Remus eyed the floating head, "To my knowledge, I'm sure."  
"Potter believes him to be at the Department of Mysteries," Snape said, "He was just telling me how 'Padfoot' was in trouble."  
"What? Why would Sirius be ..."  
"Supposedly Voldemort has him prisoner," Snape said, "And is going to kill him."  
Remus thought for a moment, and then ran for the door. He swung it open, and threw himself into the hall and up the stairs. The head of Snape followed him as he ran to Sirius's mother's bedroom, where he could hear Buckbeak inside.  
He pounded his fist on the door, "Sirius! Are you in there?"  
"I said I'd be down in a minute!" Sirius's voice came from inside, "Something did a nice little number on his right wing ..."  
"Sirius, it's Harry!" Remus said, grabbing the doorknob and shaking it. But no need. With the name Harry, Sirius threw the door wide open and ran into the hallway.  
"What. What happened to Harry. Where is he," he said.  
"No one quite knows," Snape's head sounded. Sirius looked over Remus's shoulder to Snape, and he glared.  
"What's he doing here," he barked, "What have you done with Harry?"  
"I've done nothing with him," Snape coughed, "He's done it himself. That Umbridge found him in her office, hysterical. All he could tell me before she went sweeping off to the forest was that you were in trouble at the Department of Mysteries."  
"It's just like Dumbledore said it would be," Remus said calmly, trying to sort it all out, "It's finally happened."  
"That is what I have concluded," Snape said, not looking too pleased with his agreeing with Mr. Moony, "Voldemort has discovered the bind between him and the boy. He has gone and made him see another vision."  
"If I know Harry, he'll be finding a way to get to the Ministry of Magic as soon as he can," Remus said, taking off down the hall and back to the stairs, "We have to get going. Voldemort or his supporters will be there, waiting for him."  
"Who all is in Headquarters?" Snape asked, following him down the staircase. Sirius pursued them, looking quite pale.  
"Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, and myself," Remus said, heading for the second floor, "We'll get right on it."  
"You have me, too," Sirius said, speaking up.  
"No, Sirius," Remus said, looking behind him as he started on the next staircase, "No, we don't."  
"Harry's out to save me. I have to ..."  
"I request that you stay behind, Black," Snape said, in all seriousness. All schoolboy grudges were put aside in his mind. But not in Sirius's.  
"And why?" Sirius snapped at the floating head, "So you can gloat over how I was a coward? I think not."  
"Sirius, this is a little more important than your ego," Remus said, jumping onto the first floor.  
"No, that is not why," Snape said, ignoring Remus, "I request you stay behind so that you may tell Albus what happened when he arrives at Headquarters. He is on his way."  
"Mad Eye!" Remus shouted, leaving Snape and Sirius at the foot of the stairs, "Get everyone together! Harry's in trouble!"  
As the Headquarters became alive, Sirius grew even more pale. He watched the others grab their cloaks and head for the front door. All of them, talking in worried voices about what was happening, what had happened.  
"Remember," Moody said, "This is the first true battle of many to come. Let us all hope we live to see others."  
"We have to hurry," Remus said, opening the door, "Who knows where those children are."  
Sirius grew even more pale.  
"Remember, tell Dumbledore all that I've told you," Snape said to him as the door shut behind Remus, "I am going to go scour the forests for the little brats. If I find him, I will contact you immediately. And do not, under any circumstances, leave this house."  
Snape disappeared. And Sirius was alone again.  
  
The streets of London outside of the Ministry's entrance were dismal. It was dark, and Moody led the way to the entrance the Aurors used. An old dumpster in a nearby alleyway. It looked oddly familiar.  
It was the dumpster that James and Remus had passed on their Christmas stroll. Oh the irony.  
"The most important thing is to find Harry," Moody said, "Now Voldemort may be down there. We have to be ready for that. Keep your wands out and your eyes alert. Now follow me."  
He jumped into the dumpster, and disappeared in a matter of moments. Kingsley followed him, and then Tonks. Remus took a breath, and set his hands on the side of the metal bin.  
"Something messes with one of us, it messes with all of us," he whispered to himself, before jumping in.  
"You're damn right it does!" a voice from above sounded.  
Remus, looking up seconds before he disappeared into the trash, saw a horrific sight that made him gasp and breathe in a good breath of garbage. He choked as he flew farther and farther into the Ministry headquarters.  
He appeared in the main lobby, choking. Tonks grabbed him and helped him to his feet.  
"Yeah, I never got used to that thing, either," she said.  
"Sirius!" he choked, and then he heard a thud from behind him. He turned around, furious, to see Sirius Black picking himself up off the floor of the lobby, and brushing himself off.  
"We told you to stay behind!" he shouted, "You're going to get yourself killed!"  
"Dumbledore picked me for the Order for one thing, and one thing only," Sirius said, brandishing his wand and walking to the group of Aurors, "I never knew what it was until now."  
"Come on," Moody said, running across the lobby. Kingsley followed, and Tonks did as well. Sirius ran after them, eyes straight ahead, and his shoulders held high.  
"It's because I was the darkest one in the bunch," he said over his shoulder to Remus, "And I'll do anything for a fight."  
Remus followed the rest of them into the lift, and Moody touched his wand to the side of the contraption.  
"Harry Potter," he hissed, and the lift began to move down.  
"How long has it been since Snape contacted us?" Kingsley asked, and Remus said hurriedly, "Too long. Can't this thing go any faster?"  
"I'm trying, Lupin," Moody snarled, "You want to take a go at it, be my guest. I've been telling Fudge for years that we need to get these things replaced. For emergencies like this. But what does Mad Eye know? Crazy washed up Alastor doesn't know a wand from a whizbee in their minds ..."  
"Department of Mysteries," the lift's voice sounded, and all five of the Aurors piled out into the long dark hall they had been guarding for a year now. Down the tunnel, past the torches, and to a black door.  
"All right," Moody said as the door opened, and they stepped into the circular room, "His trail must be fresh. So ..."  
The lights spun around them, and Tonks almost lost her footing as she stared at the doors whizzing by. Moody groaned, and then looked to Lupin, "This is what they call a security precaution. Spinning doors. I don't know where I was when they designed this stupid department ..."  
"Harry Potter," Kingsley said, holding his wand to the air. The room stopped spinning, and a door ahead of them opened.  
"There," Sirius said, charging forward. They followed him into the new room, and Sirius came to a halt.  
"Oh, hello, Sirius!"  
A large room with a tub set in the middle of it. The brains that the Ministry had been studying for quite some time. One of them was wrapped around Ron Weasley, who sat there, in a daze. Lupin ran into the room, behind his friend, and looked at the sight.  
Ginny Weasley, Hermione, and another blonde girl were all knocked unconscious, and were sprawled out on the floor.  
"It's that group Harry put together," Sirius said, staring at Ron as he struggled with the brains, "They're all here."  
"All of them?" Lupin said, trying not to sound frantic as he helped Ron out of the bonds, "Where are the others?"  
"I dunno," Ron laughed, "I have no clue. Harry went off with those Death Eaters, and then ... Ha! Professor Lupin! You should have seen Malfoy's face when ..."  
"Malfoy!" Sirius started, jumping back. He had to find a way out of here. He had to ...  
Doors surrounded them. More than in the last room.  
"Come on, Harry," Sirius said, his teeth gritted, "Come on, where are you. Come on, kid. Where'd you go."  
Kingsley's wand shot to a door to their right, "In here!" he shouted, rushing to the door, "They were here a few seconds ago! They have to be close!"  
Sirius and Remus ran after the other three. They had to save Harry.  
Remus could see the turmoil on Sirius's face. He had once let James slip from him. He had once held that boy in his arms and had seen him cold and frozen, icy with death. He knew that Sirius could not handle seeing that sight again. That the reason why he came was not for his ego. Not to show Snape and him up. It was because of Harry.  
Sirius was quite aware that he may not make it out alive. He took that risk stepping foot out of Headquarters. But he loved Harry.  
Maybe even more than he had loved James.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"  
The five of them froze, and then lunged towards the door.  
"DON'T GIVE IT TO THEM! DON'T GIVE IT TO THEM, HARRY!"  
Moody looked ill as he recognized that voice. It sounded almost identical to another's that he had once known.  
"Longbottom's in there," he said, "Open the door, Kingsley."  
"I can't," Kingsley said, throwing his shoulder into the door, "It's stuck. I can't!"  
"Well you need to!" Sirius growled, pushing him out of the way, and throwing his own weight to the entrance, "HARRY! WE'RE COMING!"  
"That was just a taster!" a voice came from inside as the Longbottom boy screamed.  
Sirius perked up, and he glared. The voice. He recognized it. Lupin had as well.  
"Bellatrix," he growled, and he thrust himself on the door, "HARRY!"  
Lupin pushed Kingsley back, and went to helping Sirius try to budge the wedged door open, "Come on!" he shouted, and the two men hopelessly pounded on the thick metal.  
"Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!" Bellatrix's cackling sounded in their ears.  
"NOOOOO!" Sirius howled, and charged the door one last time.  
BANG!  
It opened, and he went charging into the room. The room that was feared by all. The one room that outdid all of Azkaban's nightmares.  
The veil stood there, in front of them on its platform. Remus had heard stories about this room. It was used to execute people. And things.  
And that veil was the way in which they did it.  
And there, on the platform, was Harry.  
Death Eaters, everywhere. Lupin raised his wand, and aimed a spell at Bellatrix.  
"No! She's mine!" Sirius shouted, and jumped down into the room, "I have some family business to take care of!"  
A spell hit Lupin in the back of the neck, and he went sprawling onto the floor. He flew back to his feet, and threw a stunning spell at his attacker. The Death Eater fell to the ground, and Remus ran after Sirius.  
A charge of white light flew in front of him, towards Harry. The floor cracked, and the entire room shook. He looked over his shoulder to see where it had come from. There was a familiar face, pointing his wand directly at him.  
"How long has it been, wolf?" Dolohov laughed, "A good decade, I'm sure."  
Lupin ran towards him, and raised his wand, "Expelliramus!" he shouted, and Dolohov dodged the spell as easily as Lupin had delivered it.  
"Ah, I see the wolf is back," he snarled, "So nice of you to join us again."  
"Where is he," Lupin demanded, pointing his wand directly at Dolohov, "Where is Voldemort."  
"You say it so sure of yourself," Dolohov laughed in that thick accent, "Like you've acquired some amazing power since the last time we met."  
"Protego!" Lupin shouted, and Dolohov blocked the spell again.  
"You've changed, wolf," Dolohov said, smiling slyly, "Last time I saw you, you were crying on my floor, begging for mercy."  
"People change," Lupin snarled, and his eyes narrowed, "Cruci ..."  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Dolohov shouted, throwing his wand in the direction of Lupin.  
"NO!" Moody shouted, jumping off of the stairs and landing on Dolohov. The spell missed Remus, and bounced off of a wall.  
"Ah, the great and merciful Alastor," Dolohov said, striking Moody in the head with his fist, "How I have missed you."  
Dolohov took his wand, and struck Moody across the face with it. Lupin ran to help him, but another Death Eater hit him from behind and threw him to the ground.  
"As I always say when we meet, Alastor," Dolohov laughed, "You should have killed me when you had the chance."  
Moody's eye went rolling out of his head. The older man tried to regain his strength. Tried to raise himself off of the floor. But he couldn't. He was too old.  
Dolohov smiled to himself as he looked to the other side of the bloody body of Moody. There was Harry.  
"Sirius!" Lupin shouted as he struggled with his Death Eater, "Sirius! Harry!"  
Sirius turned from his duel, and saw Dolohov striding towards the boy. His hands became fists as he threw himself into Dolohov, and Dolohov fell to the floor. He had time to look at Harry, who was holding an orb.  
The prophecy. The record of James's prophecy.  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry screamed, and Sirius heard a thud behind him as Dolohov fell to the ground. The man's arm was raised as if he was going to kill Sirius from behind.  
He smiled to himself, and then looked to the boy, "Nice one," and then he grabbed him and threw him to the ground.  
"Now I want you to get out of ..."  
Avada Kedevra flew towards them, and Sirius once again threw Harry to the ground. They needed to get out of there. They all needed to get out.  
Sirius looked above them, to where his cousin had fell. There was Bellatrix. He glared, and headed for her. He had business to settle to.  
"HARRY, TAKE THE PROPHECY, GRAB NEVILLE, AND RUN!" Sirius shouted over his shoulder.  
Lupin watched as his friend ran up the stairs to meet his cousin. Harry grabbed Neville, and they started up the steps. Sirius and Bellatrix, still caught up in their duel, jumped onto the platform in front of the veil.  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry's voice sounded, and Lupin turned his attention back to him. Why was he fighting? Why did he have to be so much like James? Why couldn't he just leave?  
Malfoy was gaining on them, and Lupin felt his heart jump. He raced to their aid, watching Lucius raise his wand high in the air.  
He leapt in front of Harry at the last moment, and pushed him back towards the door, "HARRY, ROUND UP THE OTHERS AND GO!"  
Harry ran as Remus faced his old schoolmate. Lucius laughed for a moment, and then raised his wand again.  
"Lovely reunion our lot is having, isn't it," Lucius snarled, "Just like old times. The true wizards against the half breeds. But you aren't even that, are you, Lupin."  
"STUPEFY!" Lupin shouted, and they were locked in combat again.  
"You really think you can outbeat me?" Lucius laughed, sending sparks to him.  
"You are under arrest ..." Lupin shouted, right before a searing pain cut through his arm, "AARRRGH!"  
He fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding arm as Lucius stood above him, triumphant. He had the largest grin on his face.  
"You fool," Lucius laughed, "The Dark Lord has always prevailed! And he will again!"  
He raised his wand to strike Remus. This was the end. He would die here tonight. How foolish he was to think he was invincible. He would see Lily again. He would ...  
Lucius froze,and looked past Lupin. His eyes grew wide, and his wand lowered. And he went running.  
Lupin weakly looked behind him, and saw the greatest sight that he could possibly imagine. Albus Dumbledore, rushing down the stairs to the Death Eaters, pulling them every which way, keeping them at bay. Kingsley stopped as well, and Lupin rose to his feet. All was finished. Dumbledore had arrived.  
His arm seared with pain as he walked down the stairs to meet the Headmaster. Only one more Death Eater dueled with Sirius, and that was Bellatrix. They were so caught up in their fight that they hadn't even noticed what had happened.  
Sirius was crazed. Laughing. Laughing that laugh that Remus had heard a hundred times. He was scared out of his mind, Sirius was. But he had waited so long to fight this witch. He had waited so long ...  
"COME ON! YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!" he laughed, and Bellatrix glared.  
"Yes, I can," she hissed, so only Sirius could hear. And it was then that the spell hit him.  
It him him in the chest. Sirius froze as he felt his body fly backwards, farther and farther away from the world. He was still laughing, laughing inside at this great joke that life had played on him. This wonderful joke that the supposed God James had believed in had decided he'd find amusing. He fell back, farther, and farther.  
Remus watched in horror, as he saw where Sirius was falling to. The veil. The portal to the dead.  
NO! Remus thought silently, trying to scream. But his mask had been worn so long, that he couldn't make a sound. He was paralyzed, helpless, as Sirius fell. Back, back, back ...  
Sirius's eyes had then looked to Harry. He had looked to Harry.  
Harry.  
Oh, beautiful Harry. Sirius remembered the moment in which he had held that child in his arms. The moment when Harry had come into the world, and he had stood there with his mother and father and had held him. He had been so little. So innocent. So untouched by anything.  
And then he remembered Harry. The first time he saw him after he escaped. The boy had been waiting for the Knight Bus to take him to Diagon Alley. And Sirius had caught a glimpse of him. How he looked like his father. How perfect he was in every way.  
And it was then that Remus saw the shock and horror fade away from Sirius's eyes. If he had not known Sirius for so long, he wouldn't have recognized it. Just a little glint of hope. That little light that had once dimmed and flickered out now rekindled. The darkness faded away and was revisited by that spirit that Sirius had once possessed as a young child. The voice of reason that had kept the team of boys going from the first day they all had met at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. The one that would always find the good in any plan. The one who would smile even when the world was crumbling around him.  
That Sirius returned.  
Right before he passed into the valley of death, disappearing behind the curtain forever, Remus saw that glint of hope find its way back into his old friend's eyes. The darkness no longer held Padfoot captive. He was no longer a prisoner.  
He had looked at Harry, and in doing so, had found his light once again.  
And then he was gone. Forever. He had gone back to his brother. And his sister.  
He had gone home.  
"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed, breaking Remus's thought, "SIRIUS!"  
He saw Harry run towards the veil. He was going to try to pull Sirius back out! He was going to die, just like him ...  
Remus jumped off his stair, and flew to Harry. He grabbed the boy around the waist, and pulled him away.  
"There's nothing you can do, Harry," Remus said, trying to keep his voice calm. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He just had to keep Harry away from that veil.  
"Get him! Save him!" Harry screamed, as panicked as Remus felt inside, "He's only just gone through!"  
"It's too late, Harry ..." Remus tried to explain as the boy struggled in his arms.  
"We can still reach him!"  
"There's nothing you can do Harry!" Remus said, trying to stay strong. But Harry was putting up a fight. Remus couldn't take his eyes off of that veil. If only Sirius would reappear from behind it, "Nothing ..." he said, weaker, "He's ... he's gone."  
"He hasn't gone!" Harry shouted, kicking and screaming, "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"  
"HE CAN'T COME BACK, HARRY!" Remus said, louder than he meant to. He was breaking. His mask was slowly peeling off, "He can't come back," he said, feeling the tears come to his face, "He can't come back because he's dead ..."  
"HE IS NOT DEAD!" Harry cried, but Remus didn't let go, "SIRIUS!"  
Remus grabbed Harry and forced him off of the platform.  
"Harry, he is gone," Remus whispered, "He's gone. He's ..."  
But he knew Harry couldn't hear him. Harry was just staring at the veil, in complete shock. Harry wasn't listening to anything around him. He grew limp in Remus's arms, and Remus carried him to the stairs.  
Neville Longbottom, the boy who had fought so heroically that night, ran to their aid. He took Harry from Remus, but Remus still held onto Harry's arm. He wasn't going to let him go. No, he had already lost Sirius. He would not lose Harry. Neville set Harry down. He whispered something to him, and Harry nodded weakly.  
Remus looked back at the veil. Kingsley and Bellatrix were still fighting. Bellatrix was still alive.  
"I tried to forget," his voice echoed in his head.  
"Ah, well," Sirius had said, "That's the heroic thing to do. The Peter thing to do."  
Those words stung now as he tried not to give into his tears. He would be strong. For Harry. He would not cry.  
"Something messes with one of us, it messes with all of us," Sirius's voice whispered.  
"Here," Remus said, trying not to think about what just happened. Neville needed taking care of, "Finite." Neville stood.  
"You want me to come?" Sirius said.  
"I'd kill you."  
"I know."  
Remus swallowed.  
"Let's ..."  
"You two are just like you were the day I met you!" his words rang in his mind. They had been at the Leaky Cauldron, and James and Sirius blinked, and then looked back at him in awe.  
"Well, yeah," Sirius laughed, "I'll be taking that one as a compliment. And what's wrong with you lately? You're more . . . how do I put it . . . willing to jump down our backs?"  
"Let's find the others," Lupin said, shaking the memory from his thoughts, "Where are they all, Neville?"  
Neville started to talk. But Lupin couldn't think. He couldn't concentrate.  
"Look, Remus. Both you and I know that I can't change what I saw," Sirius's voice came back, "I wish I could, but I can't. You want to truth, Lupin? I'm scared to death of that thing I saw that night. I can't lie. I'm scared. Yeah, that's right. Sirius Black is scared of something. But you gotta show me up. You have to prove to me that I'm wrong. You can't walk away from us like this."  
His grip loosened, and he felt Harry fall out of his hand. He snapped to attention, and saw Harry bounding up the steps, after Bellatrix.  
He was going to go after her.  
He was going to try to kill her.  
"Harry! No!" Lupin shouted.  
"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" Harry screamed, "SHE KILLED HIM! I'LL KILL HER!"  
Lupin ran towards him, but Dumbledore ran in front of him and held out a hand.  
"There are monsters that one must battle themselves," he said quietly, looking into his old student's eyes, "Let him go."  
Remus collapsed, the pain in his arm coming back to him. He couldn't think. He couldn't see straight. His only friend in this world, dead.  
He had lost James once. And that had hurt him to this day.  
But to lose Sirius.  
It was more than he could bear.  
When he looked up again, Dumbledore was gone. He heard an explosion upstairs. He knew Voldemort had returned. He knew Harry was up there. He had to save him. He had to ...  
He struggled to get to his feet. For Sirius. He had to do it for Sirius. He had to save ... Harry ...  
He fell back onto the stairs, his arm searing with pain. He had to let Harry fight this one for himself.  
The world was going black. He fell onto the concrete stairs, and heard the ceiling shake. There was a horrific scene in the Atrium. He knew that. But all he could do was listen. All he could do was lay there. Listening to Harry's cries. Listening to the laughter of Voldemort.  
He could do no more.  
It seemed like a lifetime later that the Aurors ran into the room, a dozen or so of them, ready to collect the Death Eaters. They had found Lupin, sprawled out on the step, and had helped him to his feet. His mask was set back on his face, and he quietly told them where to find the children. What had happened. The entire time, his eyes did not leave that veil.  
The prophecy in the field. The fate of Sirius Black.  
And he shut the world out. He couldn't take it anymore. He shut it out, and tended to Mad Eye, who was profusely bleeding from the head but had come to with the Auror's arrival.  
The two of them sat in silence on the platform, only inches away from where his dear friend had met his end. Student and teacher, once again, they sat in silence.  
"Heroes, Remus," Moody said, still woozy from the loss of blood, "Heroes are every day ordinary people. They live, touch a life ... maybe a few ... and then they fade away. They disappear. Either into time, decaying until they are awakened again and must fight one last battle. Or into the next stage of existence. Death."  
"Real heroes are forgotten," Remus whispered, and Moody nodded.  
"Right you are," Moody said, "But they never die."  
Remus looked to Moody, his eye socket empty and vacant. It winked at him, and then Moody smiled, "Never truly do they die. That's the one lesson that I could never teach you, Remus. The one that Albus or Minerva, or even James and Sirius couldn't. It's one that comes with time and age."  
"What lesson is that?" Remus asked.  
"You still don't see it, do you?" Moody said, looking back to the veil behind them, "You still don't see it."  
"I think you lost a lot of blood, Mad Eye," Remus said.  
"The ones who lived, who truly lived," Moody said, ignoring Remus's remark, "They make an imprint on our lives. They leave their mark in our hearts. They change the course of our fates and our destinies. Those are the real heroes, Lupin. The ones who cared enough for a human being that they rewrote their futures."  
He took a swig from his hip flask, and then looked to Remus once again with one eye, "You probably wouldn't remember the pact you and your little friends made all those years ago. I believe you were out cold when they took the oath."  
Remus looked to him, confused.  
"It was that night that you and Dolohov had that run in," Moody said, "Oh, you were young. Probably not a day over eighteen. But Sirius ... that man put his life on the line to save you. All of them did. When you arrived back at Headquarters with us, they stayed the entire night by your side. I have never seen a more dedicated group of friends.  
"Minerva and I watched from the doorway that night," he continued, "And we saw Black make everyone promise that they would always stick together. Always be there for each other."  
"I remember," Remus said quietly, "They told me about it later on. But what good has it done."  
"What good has it done?" Moody said, "Lupin, come now! It saved a boy tonight! It bound you and Black so tightly together that it brought you back to us! It gave Black enough courage to come here and fight alongside us tonight! It gave Evans enough strength to save her son when she faced death! It gave James the power to stand in front of Voldemort and protect his family from that danger. That's what it's done! That's what good it's done! That pact still binds Harry to his mother! That pact saved Harry's life tonight!"  
Remus was quiet, and Moody took another swig from his hip flask.  
"Those children who made that oath to each other," Moody said, "Now those were real heroes. They were scared out of their minds. They had been thrown into a world that they wanted nothing to do with. War surrounded them from all ends, and what did they do? They stuck together. They held onto each other. Their pact was love, Remus. Your pact was love."  
Remus still didn't say anything. His eyes were burning. He wanted to cry. But he wouldn't. He never would.  
"Love can't die," Moody said, looking back at the curtain, "And that's why the people who instilled it in your heart can't die, either. They always will be there, a part of them. A part of them ... what was that wording that he used," he thought for a moment, and then nodded to himself, "Ah, yes. Forever alive."  
That had only been last night.  
Remus had gone home, and had been overtaken by the memories. By dreams. By sorrow. And now he sat in the Ministry car, the rain falling outside. Pounding on the window.  
"Lupin."  
He stared straight ahead, still seeing Sirius's eyes before he died. Still seeing the light ...  
"Lupin!" Moody growled, now standing outside the car. It had stopped, and they were now outside the Ministry of Magic, again. It seemed as if they had been sitting there for a while.  
"Come on, man," Moody said, opening the door and helping him out, "Let's get this over with."  
Remus followed Moody outside and through the dumpster entrance. They landed in the Atrium lobby, and Remus stopped abruptly. The fountain that had stood intact just last night was ruined, and the scene was covered with Aurors and authorities. The Daily Prophet writers were scouring the room, looking for anyone who may give them answers as to what had happened.  
No one he recognized was on the scene.  
"Come on," Moody pushed him along, "It's this way."  
The Memorial had been moved from its original spot behind the Auror offices to a large room off of the Atrium. A small golden door with the inscription, "The Drums of War Beat Loudly Through Time" stood in front of them. And Remus felt his knees buckle.  
This was the moment that he had feared for so long. To enter that room again.  
"You saw Potter put his parents' names on the wall," Moody said, taking a seat on a nearby bench, "It's as easy as that. Now I'll be waiting out here for you. Say your goodbyes. No one will be listening."  
Remus nodded, knowing what Moody meant. He opened the door, and stepped into the bright room once again.  
All around him, the walls were filled with small names etched into the surface of the marble. They were the names of civilians, Order members, Aurors, and even Death Eaters who had all died in the first war so many years ago. Remus knew that this Memorial would be visited so many more times before the end of Voldemort. Maybe not by him, but by many others. The names would grow smaller, leaving room alphabetically for the new victims of hatred and fear. And then there would be more than thousands of names, but hundreds of thousands. Maybe even millions. He didn't know what the future held.  
He looked above him, to the inscription that they had all read more than a decade ago.  
IN MEMORIUM  
TO THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES  
AND SUFFERED  
DURING THE GREAT WAR  
  
1972- 1981  
  
THEY WILL LIVE ON IN FREEDOM'S SPIRIT  
  
And now below it, newly added just last night:  
  
IN MEMORIUM  
TO THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES  
AND SUFFERED  
DURING THE SECOND GREAT WAR  
  
1996-   
  
THEY WILL LIVE ON IN FREEDOM'S SPIRIT  
  
"Could have gotten a little more original," Remus said, a small smile cracking onto his face. He then turned to the wall, and looked to the names that fell in front of him.  
P.  
There it was.  
Harold Potter.  
James Potter.  
Lily Potter.  
Olivia Potter.  
There they were. The two names, sandwiched in between James's parents. Those names were no bigger than the others. There was no story to go along with them. No explanation of how they had come to be there. No picture. Nothing. Just icy cold names engraved in marble.  
Remus turned from the names, and went to another wall. B.  
Regulus Black.  
He had been a Death Eater, and had been killed by his own side. Remus had never met him personally. He knew him. But he had never said a word to him. He wondered why he had died. What story was behind Sirius's little brother?  
He would never know.  
He raised his wand, and pointed it at the name. Sirius would file in right behind Regulus. Remus opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't. The words wouldn't come out.  
He dropped his wand to his side, and stared at the space on the wall. His face reflected in the shining marble, and he saw an unfamiliar man.  
When did I get old, he thought to himself.  
Any trace of the boy who had known these people was gone. He had been killed with the wolf. The only one who remained was Professor Lupin, great confidant for all. He had grown in the past fifteen years. He had become who he was. And the Remus that James had known ... that Remus was no where to be found in his heart.  
"I never forgot you," he said, his voice echoing throughout the cold and lifeless room. He knew no one could hear him. He knew he was alone. But he said those words anyway. Maybe for his own benefit. Maybe for the benefit of some Auror outside that just happened to walk by and listen to him. But he said those words for whoever may be listening.  
"I never forgot you," he said again, looking to where Sirius's name would lay in a matter of minutes, "I told you I did, but I didn't. There were times when I forgot myself. Times when I forgot how it was to laugh. But I never forgot you."  
No answer came from the cold wall in front of him. No ghosts would visit him now. No pranks. No games. This was real life.  
"I remember when we were younger," Remus said, standing straighter, "And there was this one match that James was playing. Just a regular match, like every other one. But you were so busy to get to it. You said we were late. You said I took too long to get ready. That I was meticulous in everything that I did and it didn't ... didn't take a person that long to pick out a robe," he smiled to himself, "I haven't remembered that for years. I don't even know what year we were in. But ... it's just a small thing that one holds on to when they have nothing else to hold on to," he hesitated, feeling the tears well up again. But he wouldn't cry. Not again, "You were right, Sirius. I have changed. I've become a cold, heartless person. But I'm alive ... I'm ..."  
He saw those eyes again. Those lightened eyes, looking at Harry.  
"You left us," he said, suddenly angered, "You left Harry. You had just gotten back. You were going to take Harry in. And you had to go and play hero. Just like old times. Well, it wasn't a game, Sirius! You died! You ... died ..."  
He bit his lip, and he felt the grip on his wand tighten, "I always tried to protect you four. I always tried to warn you, tried to keep you out of trouble. But I guess that I wasn't as strong as you two were. I was never as brave as you, Sirius," he looked to the wall that sported the Potters' names, "Or you ... James ...  
He felt his feet carry him to James's name once more. He stared at it, for such a long time. He didn't say a word. His mouth formed a firm line, and his brow creased. His breathing became shallow, and he grew very still.  
James.  
That face, with the black glasses and the brown eyes. The hair that continuously was being mussed. That cocky grin. That strut. It all came back to him.  
"Moody was right," Remus said, a sound of realization to his tone, "You've been gone for over ten years. I haven't seen you since that night at Sirius's flat. But ... you've been with me all this time. You never really ... went away ..."  
Remus looked back to the wall where Regulus's name stood, "You never left me," he said, his voice so quiet now that not even he himself knew if he was truly speaking, "Even when I turned into that monster. Even when I turned my back on you ... you never gave up on me."  
He thought for a moment, and then with a look that one wears when they are seeing a scene only they can see, added, "That's the only reason why I'm still here."  
He walked to the wall that sported the B names, and raised his wand once again, "Real heroes are forgotten," he said to the wall, "But you were more than heroes."  
He readied his wand, and said quietly, "Well, Sirius, you're to go next to your brother on the wall. Moody's orders."  
He felt the wand raise high in the air, and he heard his voice speak the name of Sirius Black.  
The letters spilled out of his wand in a frenzy of light and wind. They floated to Regulus's name, and hung in mid air. Then, Remus couldn't believe what he saw.  
The letters slowly turned away from the spot where they were supposed to have resided. Away from Regulus, and past Remus. They hovered in the middle of the room for a moment, before slowly flying to the wall opposite of the B's.  
And it was there that the letters spun around each other, one flying in front of the other, until they had spelled the name "Sirius Black." Slowly, they lowered themselves into the marble, and the names around them shuffled out of their way. And the engraving fell into place. It glowed for a moment, illuminating the room in a bright yellow light, before growing dim once more, and settling itself there on the wall.  
Remus slowly made his way to the wall where the name of his friend now lay. Had he done something wrong? Sirius was supposed to be on the other end of the Memorial ...  
And then he saw it. Where the name had wedged itself.  
  
James Potter.  
Sirius Black.  
Lily Potter.  
  
Remus smiled to himself, as if only he and the room shared a secret between themselves. He nodded, still looking at those names.  
And without another word, he headed for the door.  
As the man shut the heavy gold door behind him, two boys stood next to the names newly arranged on the wall. Remus had not seen them. No one could. And if someone could have, they would have thought themselves going mad.  
They were probably around eleven years of age, not much older than twelve. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, and looking to the man who had just left them alone.  
The first was a little taller than the other boy, with longer black hair and a glowing expression on his face. Bright black eyes shone out, showing the world the beautiful spirit that lived inside this unbroken body. His companion was scraggly, with messy jet black hair and a pale complexion. His larger nose held his black glasses on his face, and his robes were brand new. He moved his hand to muss his hair as he grinned wisely to where the door had shut.  
"Do you think he'll make it, Padfoot?" he said, eyes still intent on where that old man had stood just moments before. That man was so alien to him. He was so worn out from the world and the wars within himself and within others. This boy couldn't remember ever feeling pain like that.  
Padfoot smiled a broad and honest smile. Only the kind of smile that an innocent child could posses. He nodded his head, still watching the door.  
"He already has," he said, "He already has."  
And then, as quick as they had come, the ghosts of the boys come and gone disappeared. Forever to watch the loved ones they had left behind. Forever to see the shadows of their happiest memories.  
Forever alive.  
  
THE END

To those readers who have been following this story since August, 2003: Without your support, your reviews, and your recommendations, I could have never finished this monster of a story.  
  
To Tiffany: For helping me through some of the hardest scenes, and for giving Sirius a heart.  
  
To Alex: My oldest brother, who told me to begin this story in the first place. Without your idea, this story would have never been started, let alone have a title. 

To Joanne K. Rowling: For making a beautiful world filled with suspense, mystery, adventure, horror, and most of all, love.

SEE WHAT'S NEXT FOR THE AUTHOR OF "FOREVER ALIVE" COMING SOON!  
  
"Pride and Fear" 

A sneak peek of the new fanfiction by Mordred

Coming soon to fanfiction.net August, 2004

"The ones who lived, who truly lived, they make an imprint on our lives. They leave their mark in our hearts. They change the course of our fates and our destinies. Those are the real heroes. The ones who cared enough for a human being that they rewrote their futures." Alastor Moody, "Forever Alive"  
  
The alleyway was dark. It must have been the dead of the night in London. But he feared nothing. He was the dead of the night. He had the protecting of two forces behind him now. One force was wanted, the other was an obligation.  
Severus thought to himself what had happened that night that he and Albus had met again. It had been playing in his mind for so many months now, spinning around and around in his head. The fire. Lucius. Dolohov. The laughing.  
He shook his head, and gave out a deep breath. How long would he have to sit here, waiting for them to show up? It was just like them, thinking they could play their games with their little mouse. Their little prisoner. Moody hadn't liked him from the beginning, he knew. But at least he had been civil to him last time. He hated meeting with Frank.  
After their last encounter, he didn't want to ever see that man again.  
"Come on," he said, his breath coming out in cold icy breaths, "Come on, you stupid git."  
And right on cue, came Longbottom strolling down the alleyway.  
"You're an hour late," Severus spat, walking to meet the Auror. Frank didn't look too worried with his promptness. He had the look on his face that resembled sour milk. He knew what that look meant.  
"I will show up when I want to show up, is that understood?" Frank snarled, pointing a finger at Severus, "We're not running on your schedule here."  
"You are if you want my help," he snarled back, and then he leaned up against the wall of the alleyway, "Now, something very important came to attention at the meeting we had tonight."  
"What was it," Frank asked.  
"I need to tell Albus myself."  
"Well, you can't do that. He doesn't want to see you."  
"Oh, I believe he does," Severus said, his eyes narrowing, "I'm very sure that he does."  
Frank knew he couldn't strike him down. He knew that Severus was untouchable. But it was an Auror's instinct to attack a slimy Death Eater like him, no matter how reformed he was to have become. Severus knew this.  
Good, he thought, Let me toy with them for a while. Let them be my mouse.  
"Tell me what was discussed, and then I'll decide whether or not you get to see Dumbledore," Frank said.  
"Oh, couldn't you say please?" Severus said, a small grin falling onto his face. This Frank Longbottom reminded Severus so much of Potter it made him sick. He wondered if Longbottom was going to hex him next.  
"Listen, Snape," Frank said, grabbing the boy's collar and dragging him close, "I don't play your games. I know how you operate. And I'm not about to fall for it. Now you either tell me what's up or I'll make you."  
Severus glared at Frank. But Frank didn't look in his eyes. Not directly. No one ever did. They knew what would happen if they did.  
"Let go of me now," Severus hissed.  
It was a moment of complete hatred before Frank set him down and Severus brushed himself off. He looked to the Auror for a moment, and then back to his arm. Frank couldn't see it, but under that cloth, the mark was still there. Burning into his heart.  
He had never wanted to fight for Dumbledore. He had never wanted to become a turncoat. What would Klien say if he knew what he had done?  
But looking at Frank, he knew there was no escaping his fate. Albus had bonded himself and Severus together that night, and there was nothing he could do. He was left, between sides, not even knowing what he was fighting for anymore. What sort of man was that? Who didn't even know what he was risking his life for?  
"Now what did you find out," Frank pressed.  
Snape glared, and said, "Headquarters were broken into tonight, weren't they."  
"Yes, they were," Frank said.  
"Do you know how?"  
"No, we don't know ..."  
"A piece of parchment was given to Voldemort," Severus said, "A parchment that held the secret to your little hideout. One that may have been given to a recruit, no doubt?"  
"Yes, we give our recruits slips to read so they know where Headquarters are," Frank said, eyeing him.  
"Well," Severus said, "Do you make sure to collect them when they're finished reading them? You know, it could be a very dangerous thing leaving important information lying out and about like that," he pulled the slip of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Frank. Frank grew pale.  
"I ..." his jaw grew hard, "Diggle. That ... that idiot ... that ..."  
"Alastor believed that it was one of the recruits of the year 1978, didn't he?" Severus said, "The spy? The same year I graduated?"  
"Yes," Frank said, "He did."  
"Well," the boy went on, "He wasn't too far from the truth. The only way that the traitor, whoever he may be ... and I have not the slightest idea of who it could be, mind you," he added sarcastically, "could have known those certain facts about Potter and his family is if he was very close to him. A recruit that is close to James. Well, that only fits three men, now doesn't it."  
"Why is this important," Frank said.  
"It is important, because your dear heroic martyr James Potter is in trouble," Severus said, "The Dark Lord spoke of him and his son tonight. He is planning on using this traitor to lead him directly to Potter, and there will be no small talk this time, Longbottom. No Dumbledore to save him from the great powers of Tom Riddle. Oh, no," Snape's eyes grew darker, "This time, he has a plan that will make sure Harry Potter doesn't live to see the age of two."  
Frank grew quiet for a moment, before heading back out to the street.  
  
"Where are you going?" Severus said.  
"To tell Albus," Frank said, "James is at St. Mungo's ..."  
"I will be coming with you," Severus started to follow Frank out of the alleyway, but Frank turned around, and stared him right in the eyes. Snape was taken aback.  
"I'm warning you, Snape," he said tersely, "One wrong move, and I'll blow you to bits. Do you understand?"  
"Perfectly," Severus said, with the upmost loathing for this man, and followed him out to the streetlight.  
Snape. The evil boy who had bullied James Potter and his gaggle of friends all the way through school. Now brought to the "right" side of things not by his own free will. All of his life, he had been pushed about by men like Frank. And while others, like that idiot James, sat down and cried, only protected by his bigger and stronger lapdog ... well, Severus didn't want a lapdog. He wasn't a lapdog. Not even to Dumbledore.  
All that he had known and was taught ... all of his beliefs ... were opposite to Frank. And because Frank did not believe in them, the people who did were considered evil and wrong.  
There are a lot of wrongs in the world, Longbottom, Severus thought to himself, And I still haven't come across one right.


End file.
